Arya saw a familiar head of silver waiting when she neared the stables. She looked to her companion. "Did you know about this?"

"I know she brings good news," Oberyn hedged.

She thought for a moment, trying to reconcile the sincere worry she felt, but it was impossible with so little information. How had Oberyn come to know more about this when it was Arya the Princess spent the majority of the night with, and in very close proximity? She urged her horse faster, trying to ignore the knot tying itself in the pit of her stomach. Oberyn kept pace easily. "Explain that."

"Ask her," he directed, pointing to Daenerys with a long finger.

Arya didn't need to be told twice. She jumped down from the saddle and ran to where Daenerys was. In her haste she rudely abandoned Oberyn and left him her mount to deal with as a concession. The Princess wasn't alone, Aemon, Missandei, Grey Worm and Eliza Martell were also there. Further back, she almost overlooked the handful of Unsullied stationed at various posts around the permitter. Arya was immediately wary. Daenerys didn't usually need so many guards unless she was going somewhere. Her desire to finally get answers was quickly becoming an all-consuming need. It was past time Arya knew what was going on. Cautious of the crowd she kept her voice even. "We need to talk."

"Yes, we do." She passed the guard and went to Oberyn. Their eyes met as she stopped in front of his horse. "Thank you, Prince, for everything, I am in your debt."

Oberyn bowed his head formally but said nothing. Why would Daenerys reach out to Oberyn for help and not her? Why hadn't Oberyn told her about it at some point during their morning in the city?

While Arya was busy trying to make sense of what was happening around her, Daenerys took the reins of Arya's stallion and led him toward his stall. "Come on, let's get him a snack, I bet he's hungry."

"What's going on?" she hissed as she resisted the urge to yell. Making a spectacle wouldn't help anyone. "Why does everyone else know more about what is happening to you than I do?"

Her question caused Daenerys to flinch. "I'm sorry," she said intently. "I never wanted to hide this from you, I just didn't know if it would work the way I devised."

"Did it?" That was as good a place as any to begin.

"Yes," she said, nodding to remove all doubt. She took a deliberate look around, making sure they had sufficient distance from the stablemaster and his workers. "We are safe, Viserys is gone."

She hadn't thought that a possibility. No matter how persuasive Daenerys could be, Arya resigned herself to co-existing with him until after the wedding when the Prince and his bride would settle at Dragonstone. "What do you mean gone? Why would he just leave?"

"He's on his way to Dragonstone." Daenerys explained.

She understood the common tongue perfectly well, but those words didn't seem to fit together in any comprehensible way. "Why?"

She lowered her voice further and leaned in close. "Last night when I left you in the tower, I went to see him."

"What happened?"

Daenerys had told her she could ask anything, and to her credit the Targaryen didn't deflect or dodge. She took a deep breath and responded, "I tied him to his chair and threatened to kill him if he hurt you."

One, two, three, four… She counted the seconds while she waited for any of that to make sense. It didn't get any easier. "You did what?!" she snapped.

"Keep your voice down!" There were so many things to say and yet she was speechless. "And he just agreed to leave King's Landing?"

"Not exactly," she admitted, looking at the horse to avoid Arya's stare. She fetched him an apple and tried to keep busy, but Arya wasn't going to move on, not until she knew what Daenerys had done in her name.

"Just tell me," she pleaded. "I want to know, I need to."

"He kept threatening to kill you or to have Father do it," Daenerys continued while stroking the horse's mane.

That was more like it. He'd used a similar tactic when he spoke to her.

"I cut him a couple of times, but it wasn't working," she confessed quietly. "He was too angry, I had to change strategies."

Despite dedicated effort, she was having a hard time understanding what took place between the siblings. "You stabbed him?"

"Small cuts only, little scratches," she clarified dismissively, before continuing. "I told him that there was nothing I wouldn't do to protect you. He didn't fear me enough to agree, so I had to think of something else."

"What?!" Arya erupted.

"The only thing Viserys loves is Viserys," she explained, "I told him that if he accused you of a crime, or if any harm came to you at all, I'd go to our father and confess that Viserys and I were plotting against him."

Arya was glad she hadn't eaten, if she had, she definitely would've been sick. "Seven Hells!"

"I knew he wouldn't do it, Viserys loves himself too much," she justified. "I told him he could leave and begin his new life as a Lord, or we could die together."

Arya scoffed. "I never should have told you anything."

Daenerys appeared hurt. "How can you say that? It worked. Viserys is gone. As long as he believes I'm willing to sacrifice myself for you he wouldn't dare…"

She had heard more than enough. This was unbelievable. If she had known that was what Daenerys was planning, she never would have let her leave the damn tower. Now she was supposed to be grateful because she was willing to get herself killed, for the daughter of a traitor? What kind of life could the Stark hope to have if Daenerys were dead?!

She was still going, still justifying her behavior. Arya couldn't stand there and pretend it was okay. She just couldn't. Walking away from Daenerys was hard, but it was easier than staying.

R-C

Daenerys knew Arya wasn't going to be happy when she heard what happened with Viserys. She thought she was ready for the questions and the anger, but it never occurred to her that Arya might just walk away. She had every intention of going after her, of fixing it, but outside the stable she was confronted with Aemon, Missandei, Eliza, Grey Worm and Oberyn all of whom had questions about what had prompted Arya to storm off toward the castle.

She couldn't chase after Arya, she was supposed to show Eliza around the capital. Shit. Her personal problems would need to wait. "Ready to go?" she asked, hoping the upheaval happening inside her wasn't visible to her audience.

"Is Arya joining us?" Oberyn inquired carefully, doing a much better job of controlling his emotions.

"Not this time," she said, resisting the instinct to look away. She knew he had questions, but she didn't have many answers. She didn't know why Arya had gotten so upset. Viserys was gone to Dragonstone, they were safe. She didn't have to like Daenerys's method of solving the problem and she wasn't looking for thanks or praise, but the results spoke for themselves, didn't they?

"Is everything okay?" Missandei asked in High Valyrian, while Oberyn went to get Eliza's horse.

"Not even close."

R-C

She was no stranger to negative feelings. Loss, grief, pain, rage and hate were some of her oldest friends, but they didn't provide the tools she needed to exist in this moment. Everything took considerable effort, breathing, thinking, walking. What she was experiencing went way beyond fear, it surpassed the terror she felt during her first time in the throne room and dwarfed the distress that had become her standard. What in the name of the Gods was wrong with her?

She found herself on the bench outside the barracks with no memory of how she got there. A layer of sweat coated her skin, the hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight and each breath required her to navigate past the lump in her throat. With her elbows on her legs she laid her face in her hands, listening to the soothing sounds of clashing steel. Even without their Commander there, Grey Worm's men were training vigorously.

How could Daenerys do this? Why would she put herself at risk for anyone, especially Arya? How could she think that was what Arya would want? Viserys was spiteful enough to wait months to exact his revenge after their brief interaction in Sunspear. He wouldn't forgive Daenerys tying him up and attacking him with a knife. He'd hurt her someday and it would be Arya's fault.

Panic clawed at the back of her throat. She faced down snakes, thieves and bandits without hesitation but by comparison they were easy. Then she ignorantly believed death was the worst possible outcome. Now she knew things could be so much worse.

What was she to do? She'd protect Daenerys to her dying day, but would it be enough? She needed space and time to think, now that she had it, she worried about Daenerys's safety. Where had she gone? She trusted in Aemon and Grey Worm's abilities, but she would have felt better if she'd been there to oversee the Targaryen's security herself. Since that was impossible, Arya focused on what she'd do when Daenerys got back. She'd have to deal with this new crippling fear of hers. As she had the night before she turned to her memories for guidance. Loving someone in danger was possible, she'd seen it. How many times had she watched her father kiss her mother goodbye and ride away from Winterfell with a sword to fight the North's enemies? He hadn't been paralyzed by his concerns for her, nor she by hers. Neither one showed any weakness. Somehow, he put his love for Catelyn in a box until it was safe to let it out again. And Arya's mother, she was stronger than the lot of them. Her eyes might've been glassy, but she didn't let that first tear fall until her husband was over the hill and out of sight. Oh, how she wished they could teach her to be equally brave. She was useless to Daenerys if she let her emotions rule her. It had been hard enough to manage her worries before Viserys returned, now Arya felt like she was drowning. How did she carry out her duties as a guard without thinking about all the people and things that threatened the life of the Dragon Princess she adored? If she lost her, to Viserys or anyone else, Arya didn't think she could recover. There were limits to what a person could endure, and Arya knew life without Daenerys would be too much for her.

R-C

Her body spent the afternoon wandering the city, showing Eliza many of its most famous places, but her mind and definitely her heart were elsewhere. Most of her companions could tell something was wrong. At various times during their travels Oberyn, Missandei and Aemon all pulled her aside to make certain she was alright. Although Grey Worm and Eliza didn't broach the subject directly Daenerys wasn't foolish enough to think they didn't realize something was wrong. Grey Worm wouldn't broach the subject unless she did, and Eliza was too shy to mention it, but that didn't make them blind.

On the ride back to the castle she tried to settle on her next move but was divided. Half of her was inclined to throw herself at Arya's feet and beg for forgiveness, desperate to mend things between them. The other half felt justified in her brutal but necessary conduct. She didn't regret doing what it took to protect Arya and she didn't think she should be made to apologize for it. Unfortunately, that apology was precisely what Arya wanted to hear.

She was brought out of her thoughts by Oberyn's voice. She tracked it and found him next to her, atop his warhorse. They'd fallen behind the others by a significant margin. "Don't mind Arya," he said, "she's stubborn but she'll forgive you."

Daenerys didn't know how he could make such a bold claim when he didn't know what she'd done or why, but she was hopeful all the same that Oberyn's insights were accurate. "Maybe," she permitted. It was a single word, but it started the flood. All at once she couldn't stop, she didn't want to. She was eager for wisdom and few knew Arya Stark longer or better than Oberyn. "I only did what I thought was best, he was going to hurt her. She's already been through too much. I couldn't let it happen again."

"What did you do?"

Although she could see the rest of their party ahead of them on the road, Daenerys took a moment to peek behind her and make sure they were alone. "I had Viserys leave for Dragonstone early."

Oberyn clearly knew that her simplistic explanation wasn't the whole story. "Why would Arya be upset about that?"

She sighed. "I threatened him, she thinks he'll hurt me," she rationalized.

The Prince looked impressed. "Is she right?"

"He's at Dragonstone. I'll be careful, but it was worth the risk. For Arya, I'd do it again," she declared truthfully, willing him to understand.

"It is hard for people like us, for anyone to fully comprehend what Arya has had to go through. We may want to understand, to support her, and help, but few can say they've lost as much as Arya, and fewer still survive it." As Oberyn listed the things they wanted for the grey-eyed woman, she nodded along, agreeing with each of them. "She's strong and she's resilient but what was done to her family affects every part of her to this day. Her greatest fear is losing more people she loves," he paused, looking Daenerys directly in the eye, "losing you."

Oberyn made a lot of logical points. "What do I do?" He had much more experience with women than Daenerys did, she'd gladly take advantage of that knowledge if she could.

"Trust her," he advised, "and when she needs it, remind her she you aren't going anywhere. She will tell you what she needs, you only have to listen."

"I will," she swore, promising herself she'd do whatever it took.

R-C

Arya didn't feel right going into Daenerys's bedchamber uninvited, not with the way they left things. The couple shared a bed every night after their first together, be it King's Landing or Highgarden. Back further Arya spent plenty of time in Daenerys's room, as her guard, and her friend before becoming her lover. All of that notwithstanding Arya never felt completely comfortable there. Comfortable with Daenerys, absolutely, but she never felt like she fit with the surroundings. If she was honest, seeing Daenerys's life up close, day in and day out cut a little too close to the bone. It reminded her of the life she'd once been destined to live, as a Lord's daughter. Daenerys's presence, Daenerys's love was enough to absorb the brunt of the blow, but without Daenerys inside waiting for her, Arya preferred to remain in the hall.

She'd done a lot of thinking. Outside the barracks, then in the pitiful collection of trees the residents of the Red Keep called a Godswood, before finally returning to the yard with a sword in her hand. Her process involved taking stock of her feelings and trying to find the root of them one by one. She made short work of a long line of sparring partners, taking her pent-up frustrations, fears and aggression out on them unfairly. She didn't stop until ever muscle in her body begged for a reprieve.

She was sitting on the floor with her knees pulled into her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, physically holding herself together.

Missandei arrived first, without Grey Worm, and without Daenerys. She saw Arya there and went to her. "I see your afternoon was just as miserable as hers."

Too slow, she looked up and was met by warm, chocolate eyes gazing down at her, into her. "Hi Missandei," she said calling on her best approximation of a smile, "how was your afternoon?"

"It was nice," she stated simply, "it helped Eliza, I think."

"That's good," Arya said, noticing she purposefully hadn't mentioned Daenerys. "No Grey Worm?" she checked, peeking around the handmaiden to make sure he wasn't lurking in the background.

"He went to see the Unsullied."

"You didn't want to go with him?"

"The Princess would like some tea. I'll meet him when I'm finished. I was just coming to drop off my bag."

Her hands that had been clasped, separated and she freed her legs. With a grunt, she rose off the floor, pushing past the soreness in her muscles until she was standing facing the woman from Naath. "You should go find Grey Worm. I'll make Daenerys's tea."

"She'll be very happy to see you," Missandei predicted.

"What did she tell you?"

"Very little," she replied vaguely, "but I know the day did not live up to her expectations."

Those words added invisible weight to her chest. "Was there trouble while you were gone?"

"We were well protected, but she had been looking forward to spending time with you."

A real smile settled on her face without permission. She was happy to hear that, despite all the reasons she had not to be. "You're a good friend Missandei, better than Daenerys or I deserve."

Before she left, Missandei left her with one final piece of advice. "You love each other, don't allow your anger to let you forget that."

"I won't," Arya promised, but Missandei was already heading back the way she'd come.

Alone again, she almost sat down until she remembered her new responsibilities. The tea gave her something to do. It saved her the indignity of sitting outside Daenerys's room like a puppy, until the Princess happened to walk by.

R-C

Daenerys walked with Eliza to the guest room she was using. It was just down the hall from where Oberyn was staying. Slowly over the course of their afternoon together the Martell had opened up a little, showing flashes of her personality. They made plans to meet up the following day, and Daenerys was genuinely looking forward to it.

After leaving Eliza to rest, Daenerys was eager to get to her bedchamber and off her feet. She hoped Missandei would have lessons for her that would prove valuable in her quest to earn Arya's forgiveness. Just steps outside Eliza's door, her route was abruptly blocked by Daario, and he didn't look pleased to see her in the slightest. She sighed. What was that old expression, 'when it rains, it pours?' Daenerys could certainly relate. Were things not complicated enough already? "We should talk," he said as she tried to slip past. He didn't let her.

Aemon who was still serving as guard was several feet back, but he moved closer when the sell-sword spoke. He looked to his aunt for a hint of how best to proceed. She raised a hand to halt any actions either man was considering. "I'm okay Aemon. Why don't you go and see your father? Make sure we didn't miss anything important while we were gone."

He came to stand on Daenerys's left. "Are you certain? I could…"

"I'll be fine. I'm only going to my chambers anyway."

"You should still have a guard."

Daenerys couldn't contain her smile. Aemon knew her feelings on guards well. He shared many of them himself. Being male, he was granted more freedom than she was, but she never thought he'd insist she needed to watched on the short walk between Eliza's bedchamber and her own. There was only one explanation for the change, Arya. Her nephew didn't want to fail in his role as guard, because doing so would lessen Arya's opinion of him. "Daario is more than enough security." She paused while Aemon and the sell-sword eyed one another suspiciously. "Thank you for today Aemon." He spared her an uneven smile before he gave Daario another thorough review, as if looking at a man was enough to reveal his character. "It's okay. I'll be fine. I'll see you at dinner. "

"Alright," he agreed before going on without them.

"Since when does Aemon follow you around?" Daario jested.

Not in the mood for jokes she crossed her arms over her chest. "He isn't following me. He was my guard today."

"That's surprising," he commented. "So, you need a guard, and instead of turning to Jorah or me, you task Aemon with the job?"

She didn't owe him an explanation, and his obvious hurt at not being selected didn't cut as deep as it might've at another point in her life. "Aemon is a skilled young man, and it's good practice for when he goes to the Wall."

Daario was incredulous. "Aemon will be King one day, why would he give that up and join the Night's Watch?"

Rather than explain the complicated dynamics at play within the Targaryen family, she tried to redirect them. "Is this what you wanted to discuss with me?"

Immediately, he looked more serious, and sullen. "No, no that wasn't why I wanted to see you."

She moved past him and this time he let her by without complaint. Although she wouldn't have been sad if he let her carry on alone, she wasn't surprised when he fell in step beside her. Whatever this was, Daario wasn't the sort to give up, and that probably meant more hassle for Daenerys.

"Where is your guard, that Dornish girl?"

Daenerys was on edge and it showed in her tone. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?" she asked sarcastically.

"Sort of.".

"Listen Daario, it's been a really long day, so if this is about our relationship, how about I save us both some time and…"

He cut her off. "I saw you last night." Five words that not only stopped what she intended to say, but also froze her heart for a beat or two. "I searched the tower like you asked, and after, I saw you. You were in a hurry, at the bottom of another tower, I thought you were still looking, so I followed you."

By the Gods, why did it have to be Daario and why did it have to be today? She lashed out in anger because it was infinitely easier than addressing the larger issues. "You were spying on me?!" she accused hotly.

"I wasn't spying, you asked for my help, remember? I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I planned to alert you to my presence when I got to the top of the staircase, but when I did…"

She could only imagine what he'd seen. She and Arya were reckless, failing to take important precautions. It could be forgiven considering all they had to deal with last night, but now Daario had everything he needed to burn her world to ashes, Arya included. Grasping on Daario's bicep she pulled him into a doorway and then gave him a hard shove into a storage closet. The confined space wouldn't give her much of a chance to keep her distance, but it would afford them with privacy. "What do you want? Who have you told?"

Two simple questions with an untold number of possible answers. She started considering the possibilities and each one was worse than the one that proceeded it. "I find out you have another lover and that's what you want to know?" he asked bitterly. He leaned forward and for an instant she wondered if he meant to strike her. He didn't. "Can't you muster up an ounce of sympathy for the man you lied to about everything?"

It would have been easy to decide she was too busy or simply unwilling to respond. She could leave Daario and not give him another thought, but would that rejection make him more inclined to hurt her in return? If so, would he use Arya to do it? "I never lied to you. I didn't want to hurt you I may not have told you everything, but I never lied."

He barked out a cold, humorless laugh. "Never lied? You like women and didn't think that was something I should know?"

Something about his aggrieved attitude and his whining pressed on a raw nerve. She knew he was hurting and tried not to judge him too harshly, but she wasn't the only one to blame. "When exactly should I have told you?" she inquired. "This wasn't a choice I made, or an elaborate scheme I cooked up. No one was more surprised than me when I was attracted to a woman, but I was in Dorne and you were gone, so what should I have done?"

"Not fucked her behind my back," he spat angrily.

Her sympathy for Daario was fading fast. "Not that it is any of your business, but I didn't fuck Arya or anyone else while you were away. Can you say the same thing?"

Whatever her mistakes, if they compared lists of other partners, either during their relationship or after, she was confident it would end in her favor. "You expect me to believe you remained faithful?"

"You can believe whatever you want. I hurt you and I'm sorry for that, but the day you got back, that very night I ended things between us."

"You didn't tell me about her. You never said a word. If I hadn't seen her last night, half naked and kissing you, you'd still be lying."

Daenerys was running out of patience. "It's not lying!" she roared. "We haven't been together since my nameday." The more she spoke, the angrier she became. "I didn't tell you because it's none of your business. I don't ask about the women you see, do I?"

"That's…"

She saved him the indignity of trying to justify his hypocrisy. "We aren't together anymore. I'll always care about you, but I don't love you and it was wrong of me to continue our relationship knowing that you had deeper feelings for me."

"I don't care if you don't love me, it doesn't matter to me one fucking bit."

They were back in familiar territory, having a fight they'd had before. "Daario why are you doing this? You know the truth now, you understand why we can't be together, so what else is there?"

Daario took hold of her upper arm, tightening his hold and increasing the pressure with every word. "I want answers, you owe me that much at the very least."

"What are the questions?"

"Explain it to me!" he demanded. "How you can care about me one day and then be in love with a woman the next."

Was he trying to incite her anger, because he was inching closer to getting his wish? "It didn't happen like that. It didn't happen all at once. As soon as you returned, I told you we were over."

"Right, you ended things so you could fuck a woman?!"

Was he upset because they were through or because she chose a woman over him? The fragility of the male ego truly knew no bounds. "I ended things because I wasn't happy. We never should have…"

"If you wanted to fuck random bastards why didn't you just say so?" he barked condescendingly. "I could have found you someone a lot more interesting and far better looking."

She had been willing to tolerate his abuse because she earned it, but she wouldn't allow him to mock Arya. "Don't talk about her, you don't know the first thing about her."

"I know she's fucking you, and I know you'll get tired of her soon enough. When you do, you'll get rid of her, just like you did me. What did you promise her anyway, gold, a better post, a promotion?"

He sounded so sure of himself, it was annoying. She was tempted to inform him that nothing she ever felt for him was even remotely comparable to what she had with Arya. She loved Arya more than anything, and she'd never loved Daario. "Stop it!" she insisted. "Be angry at me. I'm the one who hurt you."

He laughed darkly. "I'm allowed to be angry! How generous of you, Princess."

Throwing up her hands she went on the offensive. "What did you want me to do? Should I have kept taking you to bed while I was falling in love with someone else? Did you want me to pretend nothing had changed?"

"What I want," Daario decided, "is to know why you did this to me!"

Did this to him?! She scoffed. "I know this is hard for you to imagine, but my feelings for Arya have nothing to do with you."

He glared defiantly at her. "You ending our relationship doesn't involve me?" he fired back. Before she could respond he chuckled. "You're right, this is all about your father."

Her father? Why would he think that? "This has nothing to do with…"

"Of course, it does!" he interrupted. "You want to show the King that you're not his perfect little Princess, that's why you were with me, and that's why you're with her Congratulations you picked someone even less suitable for the King's only daughter than the dirty, pit-fighting sell-sword."

How dare he? While it may have been a contributing factor once, doing something her father would disapprove of was no longer the thrill it had been. "Sorry to disappoint, but my feelings for Arya are only about Arya."

Even as he smirked, the underlying pain remained evident. "If that's true, you wouldn't mind me telling the King what I saw, right?"

Fuck! She should have known that was where this was going. He was as opportunistic as the rest of them, using what he knew against her. "What do you want?"

Her question amused him. His smirk widened. "Excuse me?"

"If you were going to tell my father, you'd have done it already. You're talking to me, because you want something. What's the price for your silence?"

"What if I said, I want you?"

She hissed, a visceral reaction to the mere suggestion. She leaned in, until they were almost nose to nose. "I'd tell you, that was never going to happen again."

"And that'd be worth risking her life?"

Furious, her head filled with flashes of her doing to Daario what she'd done to the last man who threatened Arya. She'd been understanding of Daario when they started, wanting to avoid causing him needless pain. She hoped they could part peacefully, as friends. She couldn't find any of those sentiments now. She could carve him up without regret. Arya was the woman she loved, not some prop or tool for Daario or anyone else to use to get what they wanted. "Viserys is gone. He left for Dragonstone weeks ahead of schedule."

"Why?" he asked, obviously curious about her reasons for including that detail at a time like this.

"He was going to hurt Arya. He would have done it too, if I hadn't stopped him."

"You stopped him?" he verified with a healthy amount of skepticism.

"We struck a bargain," she recalled, smiling at the memory. "He gets to continue breathing, as Lord of Dragonstone no less, while I get to ensure absolutely no one ever harms Arya." She let that sink in and then she brought them back to their impasse. "Ask yourself, if I was willing to incur my brother's wrath for her, do you think I'd hesitate to welcome yours?"

He said nothing, choosing to stare into her eyes as he debated what to make of the story. Daenerys stared back, not wilting or squirming or glancing down nervously, she met his challenge fearlessly while she waited to see how he'd react.

"You're serious," he realized. "Who are you? The Daenerys I met…"

"That girl is gone!"

He thought for a moment and then took another. "I'm taking my men back to Essos. I don't have a reason to stay anymore."

She nodded. "I hope you're happy there."

"How quickly things change," he remarked. "Suddenly you want me happy, but not ten seconds ago you were threatening my life."

He wasn't wrong, but the distinction was clear to her. "I do wish you well," Daenerys told him, "as long as you don't endanger Arya, I will continue to want good things for you."

"This won't end well, you know that don't you?"

"I appreciate your concern," she said sharply, "but Arya and I will be fine."

He was unimpressed. "If you say so," he quipped while shaking his head. "Whatever the appeal is, it won't last forever. When you're bored with her, I'll be waiting."

Rather than respond she let him go without correcting him. She'd given him too much of her time already. She stayed where she was for a full minute, just to minimize the chances that their paths might cross.

Exiting the closet Daenerys went toward her room. Missandei was probably worried about her. She increased her speed as it occurred to her that Missandei might know where Arya was.

R-C

A daunting line of servants were ahead of her in the kitchen, delaying Arya longer than she would have liked. Daenerys was probably waiting for her tea, wondering what was taking Missandei so long. She moved as quickly as she could without spilling anything. All her care was nearly thwarted when Daario stepped out of a shadow and situated himself in front of her. "Excuse me," she said flatly.

"I need a moment of your time," he countered.

She wasn't interested in anything he had to say. "I've got somewhere to be."

He looked suggestively to the teapot. "I see that."

"What is this?" she wanted to know. Her day was bad enough without Daario. She didn't need this shit.

"I'm leaving, but before I do, I have a message for you."

He was leaving? Did that mean he finally accepted that Daenerys didn't love him or was it only temporary, another assignment from the King? "What's the message?"

"Get out while you still can. She's using you. When she's done, she'll throw you away and you'll be exactly where I am now."

Arya hid her surprise and outwardly showed indifference. How had Daario discovered their secret? Did that have something to do with his departure? "I don't know what you're talking about," she tried.

"Yes, you do. Save yourself a lot of heartache. You can't trust her."

There was a lot Arya was conflicted about, a lot of uncertainty in her life, but she knew without question that Daenerys was worthy of her trust. "Is that all?"

He paused, deciding if he wanted to make another attempt to sway her. He stepped to his right, clearing Arya's route. "Think about what I said," he added, before she got too far away.

Unwilling to let him have the last word, she stopped in front of the staircase. Looking back over her shoulder and found him in the same spot, watching her closely. "Safe travels," she said before beginning her climb.

R-C

When they were finally sitting opposite one another again, neither woman spoke. Daenerys didn't know what held Arya's tongue, but the Targaryen didn't want anything to lessen the moment. They'd only been apart a few hours, but it was sufficient to make abundantly clear that she didn't want a future without Arya next to her. The guard was exhausted, and her hair was askew, but she remained the most beautiful woman Daenerys had ever laid her eyes on.

"I'm sorry," she said to begin, "I shouldn't have left like I did, I regretted it for most of the afternoon."

The tea Arya brought her was on the table, but she wasn't thirsty anymore. Daenerys had spent a considerable amount of energy on what she wanted to say to her lover and was no closer to having the proper words. She'd run out of time. The seconds passed. She had to say something. Instinctively, she went with the truth, harsh as it was. "I'm not. I tried to be, I swear, but I'm not." She reached across the table for Arya's hand. "I love you, and I am not sorry that I did what was necessary to keep you safe. I'll never be sorry for that."

"Viserys will want revenge," Arya announced. "He won't forget this."

She knew that. She turned her hand over, so Arya's was on top and then lifted it to her lips. She kissed two of her knuckles. "Then it's a good thing the most talented, gorgeous guard in the world has agreed to stay in my service," she joked.

"I'm serious."

"I know," Daenerys assured her, "but I couldn't do nothing. I couldn't make you choose between sharing his bed or killing yourself." At its most basic that was the crux of her logic. "I had to do something."

"You risked too much. You shouldn't…"

"That doesn't matter now," Daenerys interrupted, not wanting to hear Arya diminish her value. "Viserys is at Dragonstone and we are here."

The grey eyes she loved so much seemed to be imploring her to listen. She tried. "And what if Viserys goes to your father and tells him what you've done."

"He's too embarrassed, he'd rather die than let everyone know his sister got the best of him."

"How did you tie him up?"

That was the one question Daenerys didn't want to answer. How could she hope to explain that she played on her brother's perverse desire to have her as his wife? "I made him think I was going to make him a better offer, by the time he realized I had other intentions, he was bound to the chair."

Arya seemed to understand that the topic made Daenerys uncomfortable and mercifully didn't push for the details. She suspected this wouldn't be the last time it came up, but she'd gladly leave that particular mess to be cleaned up later. "He could still use the King to punish us."

Be it Daario or Viserys, Daenerys's greatest fear was that someone would go whispering to her father and weaponize his illness against them. She could only hope her brother's desire to live was strong enough to combat his taste for blood. "I told Viserys that if my father accused either one of us, I'd admit my guilt and claim Viserys aided me in my scheme. He'd be killed too."

Arya's mood took an immediate turn. She'd been amenable since they started, even when she was posing questions or contradicting Daenerys's arguments, it was calm and measured. Now Arya squeezed her hand so hard it almost hurt. She was anything but calm. "I know, you told me this in the stables."

Guessing that they were nearing the root of the problem, she tried to soften the blow. "I knew it wouldn't happen. At his core Viserys is a coward, one who loves himself too greatly to put his neck on the block." Arya didn't look convinced, so she kept going. "Viserys has dreams of being King and ruling Westeros, it'll never happen but he believes my father will name him his successor any day."

"What if he's right?" she proposed.

"He's not. Rhaegar has been groomed to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms since the day he was born. The only person who doesn't see that is Viserys, because he is too selfish. He can't see past what he wants. He won't take the chance that I'd implicate him, he'd rather bide his time and stew in his anger. He'll make plans for the revenge he'll take when he's on the throne, but that day will never come."

She knew when Arya understood the wisdom of her strategy, because the grip on her hand loosened. "It was still a huge risk. What would you have done if you were wrong?"

"I would have talked myself out of it," she insisted, aware that was what Arya needed to hear.

"And if you couldn't?"

"I would have done what was needed to keep you safe, just as you've done for me every day since we met."

"That's not the same thing!" Arya contended, dropping the hand she'd been holding.

When Arya rose out of her chair, Daenerys did too. "Why not," she shouted passionately, "because you're a guard, because it's your job? I'm no more important than you."

Groaning in frustration, Arya ran her hands through her hair, messing it up worse than before. "I don't want you putting yourself in danger for me, not with Viserys, your father, or anyone!"

"I didn't do it for you," she revealed in a moment of utter honesty.

Arya hadn't been anticipating that. She relaxed a bit, searched Daenerys's eyes to determine her sincerity and then inquired. "What?"

She took a deep breath and tried to summon the appropriate way to explain a very unconventional thought process. "I didn't do it only for you," she clarified. Arya's lips parted to ask a question, so Daenerys purposefully surged ahead, denying her the opportunity to interfere. "I didn't, I mean I did, I wanted you protected, but it was as much for me as it was for you."

Not able to follow, Arya raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I couldn't lose you," she blurted out. "I couldn't let Viserys hurt you, not like that, not after what happened in your training. The thought of you with anyone else, especially my brother, like that, against your will, I had to stop it, for both of our sakes. You didn't deserve it and I couldn't live with myself if I did nothing."

She expected outrage or more confusion, so it was a shock when Arya took her hand. Not the tight, unyielding hold from before, but gentle and loving. "I understand," she said, "I would've done the same thing in your place."

Although she was relieved Arya wasn't angry, she was uncertain about what caused the sudden shift. Her explanation was barely coherent, and yet Arya's whole demeanor was different. "Then why were you upset. If you understand why…"

"I was scared," she finally said, sounding thoroughly drained. "The idea of you risking your life for me, it terrified me more than a thousand men with swords ever could."

This was serious business, and yet Daenerys couldn't deny that a part of her found Arya's admission sweet and romantic. "You didn't need to be scared, I knew…"

She didn't finish the thought, but she didn't need to. "You can't do that to me again, we have a deal, remember?"

What was she talking about? "We do?"

"Together," she elaborated, raising their clasped hands, "we said we'd face what came together."

She nodded, because she did remember that. "Together," she pledged.

"What we do, we do together, that's why I didn't go out the window before you got there and why I told you what I was thinking when you asked."

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed. It was her, she was the reason Arya hadn't killed herself? She assumed she was gathering up the courage to do it, but if what she was saying was true, it was Daenerys that kept her from acting on her impulse. As thrilled as she was to inspire such devotion, it only worsened her guilt. The contrast of Arya's thinking against her own was striking and it didn't paint Daenerys in a favorable light.

She was working on an apology when Arya spoke. What she said did nothing to cure Daenerys's ailment. The weight on her chest became unbearable. "How is you dying for me, any better than me jumping out that window? It's practically the same thing!"

"Viserys accepted my terms," she noted feebly, aware she was missing Arya's point. "He didn't say anything to Father, I knew he wouldn't." As excuses go, it was flawed. If she were Arya, she wouldn't accept it either, but it was all Daenerys had.

When Arya smiled at her, it was indulgent and sweet. It didn't fit the situation at all. "I don't need to ask if you would have gone through with it. If Viserys told Aerys and put you in a corner, you would have made good on your threat, I know that, because I know you."

She wanted to refute that, because saying she wasn't willing to sacrifice herself would give Arya some peace, but it would be a lie. She may have calculated that Viserys wouldn't tell their father, either to spare himself embarrassment or to stay alive, but if she'd been wrong, Arya was right, she would have seen it through to the end, ensuring he died with or before she did. Daenerys couldn't deny it. "I…"

"You didn't think about me!" Arya accused the Princess fiercely.

"You're all I think about!" she yelled, resisting the notion entirely. It wasn't much of an exaggeration. Arya was constantly on her mind. it would be infuriating if she didn't secretly enjoy it.

"Then think about me," Arya instructed. "If you and Viserys died in the throne room what would happen to me?"

It wasn't hard to imagine a trial in the throne room ending in green flames. That part came easy, what was harder was picturing Arya standing behind her empty chair, watching. "My father would send you back to Sunspear," she guessed.

With a humorless chuckle she shook her head. "Not my job, me!" Arya pressed. "What do you think my life becomes if I watch you the person I love most in this world die, in that place, with him!" The way Arya emphasized the final word turned her stomach.

"Arya, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking about that."

"Together," she said again. "Good, bad or in between, I need us together."

She squeezed the Stark's hand. "We will," she promised. "I love you Arya, and you're right."

"So, the next time you plan to do something reckless," she said as she moved toward Daenerys, "I expect to be invited."

She leaned in for a kiss. "There is no one I'd rather do something wild and potentially life-threatening with."

Daenerys felt Arya smile against her lips. "So romantic," she mumbled before they were too busy to talk.

R-C

Slowly Arya's heavy eyes closed, and her breathing evened out. Lying in Daenerys's bed, behind a locked door, she had the Princess in her arms, and they were both on the brink of sleep. Arya was just about to drift off when Daenerys's voice pulled her back. "Daario is leaving," she said, more awake than Arya was.

"I know," she confirmed. "He told me."

"He did?" The bed moved under her and Daenerys put a palm flat against Arya's stomach and used it to raise up off her lover's chest slightly. She turned her head to look into Arya's eyes. "When? What else did he say?" The intensity with which she asked the last of her three questions made it perfectly clear which one Daenerys wanted addressed first.

"He found me when I was bringing your tea," Arya recalled, looking pointedly at the cold beverage sitting untouched on the table.

"What did he say? I should have known he wouldn't be able to leave without looking for you."

"He knows about us," Arya acknowledged. She didn't want Daenerys to worry, but they'd just promised honesty and unity and that meant this nonsense with Daario too. "I don't know how he found out, but he warned me."

Daenerys applied more pressure to Arya as she lifted higher and sought a better angle. "Warned you about what?" It was subtle, but there was an unmistakable authority in Daenerys's voice. She wanted answers and she wasn't going to stop until she had them.

Knowing Daenerys wouldn't be distracted, she still tried. "It doesn't matter. Everything he said was horseshit and he's leaving."

She kissed Daenerys in hopes she'd get lost in the sensation and forget about Daario, but it didn't work. She kissed back but when they separated, she was back at it again. "Warned you about what?"

"You," Arya replied gently. "I told you it was crap. I didn't believe him and…"

"Every word, Arya, tell me every word he said," the Dragon demanded.

She obliged. She recounted her conversation with Daario to the best of her ability and when she was finished, Daenerys looked enraged. Her instincts were proven accurate moments later when the Targaryen threw back the blanket. "Where are you going?" Arya asked, although she knew.

"I don't think they're leaving until the morning," she said once her feet were on the floor, "there is still time to cut his lying tongue out. It'll only take a minute!"

A more perfect declaration of love for Arya Stark didn't exist. Seeing the woman she loved murderous didn't frighten her or create doubts, it only made Arya want her more. She snaked her arms around Daenerys's waist and pressed her chest into the Targaryen's back. "Arya let me go!" she commanded.

"You want to leave me and go to your former lover?" she verified playfully.

She sputtered, as she struggled to reply. "I… it's not… I can't… he…"

"He is not important. I told you it was shit. It doesn't matter to me if you loved him first, I get to love you last. We are going to stay right here."

She leaned back into Arya's embrace, an overt indication the guard was going to get her way. "I never loved him, it was a mistake from the first, but I was lonely. It's different with us, how I feel about you is different, you know that, right?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, pressing her lips into the crease of Daenerys's neck. "I know you love me, and I'm going to show you how much I love you."

They'd already spent hours forgetting the stresses of the day and apologizing the best way they knew how. They were tired, but all the sudden Arya needed more. Something about seeing Daenerys so eager to defend her honor reignited her hunger. Never did Arya think she'd find someone who not only loved her exactly as she was, but was also willing to wage war or commit murder because someone had the audacity to say something impolite about the foster "We are exactly where we belong. Don't give Daario the satisfaction of chasing after him."

Daenerys already had one leg back on the bed when she posed a challenge. "Convince me to stay then."

Arya's smirk felt like it might be permanent. She waited until Daenerys was lying flat, then Arya began crawling down her body, kissing as she went. Looking up from between the Princess's breasts she asked, "Shall we get started?"

R-C