Unable to get her dream off her mind, Daenerys spent the early part of her morning thinking up ways to "accidentally" cross paths with Oberyn. It was more difficult than it otherwise would have been because Arya was once again serving as the Princess's guard. The lovers had come to a compromise of sorts. It was a less than ideal arrangement for both sides. Daenerys was steadfast in her belief that Arya needed to continue to rest and recover, but admittedly she was finding it harder and harder to insist. She didn't fault the soldier for growing frustrated with her limitations. She too would tire of laying in bed all day, staring at the same set of walls.

It was Arya's opinion that the time in bed was doing more harm than help now that the majority of her wounds were mending. It was a hard position to argue against when Grand Maester Pycelle was already noted as saying she was fit to travel. If she was healthy enough to sail to Dorne, why should she be prohibited from wandering around the castle?

She told herself she was agreeing to make Arya happy, to make the woman she loved smile, but selfishly Daenerys knew a part of her was welcoming Arya back to work because the Princess wanted her close. Far from fighting shape, Arya's movements were slow, she didn't wobble or limp but there was a distinct pause before she put her weight down on an extended leg, as if carefully testing whether or not the limb would support her. She'd roll her neck from side to side frequently, and then do the same with her shoulders. It was obvious these actions caused pain, so Daenerys asked why she'd do it. She explained that her muscles were stiff, and she was trying to loosen them. She claimed that momentary discomfort led to greater relief afterward. Since she knew of no alternative Daenerys relented, but that didn't mean she liked watching and listening to Arya's teeth clench while she breathed heavily through her nose, a sure sign that she was battling a wave of pain. If there were positives, they were that Arya's armor hid the bulk of the injuries and her unapproachable demeanor, vaguely menacing posture and blank stares kept the gossips from venturing too close.

With Arya walking next to her again, Daenerys spent more time looking at her protector and less on the people and things in front of her. She wasn't frightened exactly, or even nervous, just wary. The weeks she spent at Arya's bedside after the whipping felt like an eternity when they were happening, however they seemed too brief now. To combat her anxiety Daenerys kept repeating the same few words, 'Arya can do this. You can do this.'

There was no reason for a guard within the keep anyway. She pledged to try and stop thinking about this as Arya's return to her job and instead consider it the perfect opportunity to spend the day with the person she adored most.

Perhaps Daenerys's favorite part of the day came just after breakfast when she, Missandei and Arya were retiring to her chambers. On the way they met an annoyed Jorah Mormont. "There you are!" he exclaimed, marching up to the Targaryen.

It didn't escape her notice that Arya glared viciously at the knight. Thin lips parted and the Princess knew Arya was about to defend her. She didn't let it get that far. "Did we have a meeting?" she asked snidely.

He ignored her quip outright. "We talked about this. You aren't to leave your chambers without a guard."

"I have…"

"She has a guard!" Arya announced, stepping forward.

Stunned, Jorah took note of Arya's armor for the first time. His eyes bounced from Daenerys to Arya and back. "You can't be serious!" he said to the royal. "She is in no condition to…"

Willing and able to justify Arya's abilities, she didn't get to. "Careful, old man," the Stark warned. "When was the last time you swung a sword in anger?" She didn't let him respond before finishing. "The way I hear it, you prefer to have others do the killing for you, isn't that right?"

For an instant Daenerys thought Arya was referring to his attempt to have her executed but while she watched Jorah's face heat with embarrassment and rage, she realized Arya was talking about his betrayal of the North years earlier.

"You'd be wise not to mention things you know nothing about," Jorah advised.

Arya was the one who had been whipped, the one still healing and yet she looked considerably more comfortable in that moment than he did. "Perhaps I know more than you think."

Deciding now was the best time to step in to avoid violence, Daenerys interceded. "That's enough!" she roared. "Ser Jorah, as you can see, I am keeping to the bargain I struck with my father, I have a guard. Your assistance will not be required today."

"Princess, please," he whined pathetically.

She looked away from Jorah for the first time since speaking. Her features softened as she pinned Arya with her gaze. "And you, let's go, we have an appointment."

As they continued toward her room, Jorah made one final attempt to control her. "The Prince will not be happy about this."

Without slowing even slightly she looked at the dismissed knight. "Why don't you go tell him and find out Ser?" she proposed.

R-C

They were having such a nice morning that Daenerys allowed herself to temporarily forget about the live-altering choice she'd made. Time spent with Missandei and Arya made her feel happy, free and young. She revelled in it, determined to milk every last drop that she could.

Oberyn's arrival at the door brought the realities back hard and fast. It was just before midday and Arya had gone to see if Tyrion had any afternoon meetings for them. "May I have a moment of your time?" Though he posed it like a question and was sufficiently charming, Daenerys got the sense the topic they were going to discuss was anything but casual. "Of course, Prince. You are always welcome, come in."

As she waved him closer, Missandei stood and made an excuse for her hasty departure. Daenerys had no plans to ask her to go, she would learn soon enough what the Princess was plotting. Still, she let the handmaiden escape with a smile and a nod. They could talk later.

As he settled in the chair opposite her, she wondered if he somehow knew already? Was it obvious that she'd made her choice? Did he realize how profound an effect their talk had on her? She also doubted it was a coincidence that Oberyn sought her out now, when Arya had stepped out.

"How are you this morning Prince?" she asked to get them going.

"I'm in need of your help," he said directly, getting right to the heart of it.

That was not what she expected. What could she of all people provide to a man as worldly and influential as Oberyn Martell? She leaned forward in her seat. "I'll do what I can to assist you, is something the matter?"

His easy smile eased some of her concern. "Not at all, I just require a favor and there is no one else I would dare ask."

Sure, Arya was still recovering, but wouldn't Oberyn rather confide in her? "Alright," she said carefully. Her mind filled with all the things he might request from her.

"I need you to take Arya to dinner tonight," he said seriously. "You both need to leave the keep and stay out late."

Why? Why could that be so important? "What's going on?"

It was quiet for a time and Daenerys feared he didn't intend to respond. When he did, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

She didn't need to debate this, she knew. Arya trusted Oberyn, and Daenerys loved Arya, so by extension Daenerys did as well. "Yes."

He stood from his chair. "Good. I'll explain everything tomorrow, but for tonight just take our friend into the city, eat, drink, laugh and love."

Daenerys was struggling to keep up. She was busy trying to make sense of Oberyn's instructions when she saw him leaving from the corner of her eye. "Wait," she called out.

They had addressed his business but not hers. "Yes?"

"The other night at dinner, you suggested that perhaps I might step forward if my brother is unwilling," she recalled gently. She watched Oberyn lower himself back into the chair, he wore a knowing smirk on his face that reminded her of Arya. "Did you mean that? Do you really think I could?" She stopped short of saying out loud what they were actually discussing, but Oberyn had no trouble following along.

"I think you'd be wonderful," he answered, giving her a full smile to strengthen the statement. "The Realm would be better for it."

She swallowed down some guilt as those words reached her. Would Oberyn change his opinion if he knew it hadn't been concern for the people that had motivated her? Daenerys was going to decline, until her dream reminded her of Fire and Blood. "Why not support Aegon's claim or even Rhaenys?"

"My niece and nephew would make fine leaders and they will be when their time comes," he paused and then specified, "in Dorne. They do not belong in King's Landing and neither wishes to leave their home." He stopped and then lightened the tension with a joke. "You've put me in a difficult place Princess, when I return to Sunspear and see my lovely niece again, I'll have to inform her that Arya's heart belongs to another, and a Targaryen no less."

Somehow, she managed a smile, but it felt forced. She remembered the Princess as young and beautiful. She also recalled her overt interest in Arya. The guard seemed unbothered or unaware and Daenerys hadn't dwelled on it. "Should I apologize?"

"Absolutely not." He laughed lightly. "She's young, she'll move on to another soon enough, but she has been trying for Arya's affections for years."

Daenerys wasn't sure what to say. She settled for the inarticulate and unhelpful, "Oh."

Understanding passed across Oberyn's face. "You have nothing to worry about. I've never seen Arya happier, and that's because of you."

That did cheer her, which she was confident was his goal all along. "I can't lose her," Daenerys admitted, "I won't. If I have to replace my father to make sure she can stay by my side, then so be it."

Oberyn was unusually quiet and it had Daenerys unnerved until she noticed his expression was the same one he used around Arya and his daughters, a look of untainted pride. Her cheeks warmed in reply. "Are you sure? If anyone finds out before you're…"

She knew well what would happen to her and everyone she carried about if her father or his allies discovered what she was conspiring to do. Still what choice did she have? If she did nothing not only would the Realm suffer under Aerys and then Viserys, but she'd lose Arya for months, years, or possibly forever. "I know. I accept the risks," she confessed quietly, "it's the rest I'm not sure about." Now that she'd started, she couldn't stop. All the things that had been tormenting her since the dream poured out. "I was supposed to have Rhaegar's help. I didn't think I'd be doing this alone. I have no experience, I'm just a girl, why would anyone follow me?" What began as an opportunity to seek Oberyn's counsel turned into a flood of her fears and shortcomings.

She looked down into her lap, embarrassed that she said all that. She thought he would go. After that, he couldn't actually want to help her proceed, could he? Nothing she'd done inspired much confidence. She wasn't behaving like a Queen or a Dragon, just the scared young woman she was.

For whatever reason, Oberyn didn't seem to object to her clear and present weakness. "You aren't alone and the reason you're the right person is because you haven't yet been poisoned by the capital's politics."

He had a way of making it sound easy, which is precisely why she was considering this in the first place. If anyone else suggested it she probably would have laughed, or politely refused but Oberyn was a unique man and Daenerys couldn't dismiss him. "Maybe, but there is much I do not know about King's Landing, and about ruling."

"You'll learn," he promised. He paused and made his earlier point a second time. "You need to be certain. Once you start there is no turning back."

She took a moment to think, to really think. Was she scared? Yes. She was woefully unprepared. She was anxious and nervous and genuinely terrified but deep down, under all those competing uncomfortable emotions there was one immutable truth. It was right. Neither Aerys nor Viserys could be allowed to reign over the Seven Kingdoms. If no one else was willing to ensure that didn't happen, she would, for Arya and for the Realm. She wasn't anyone's first choice for a leader – including her own – but she was the Targaryen they had, for better or worse. "Where do I start?" she asked, meeting Oberyn's dark eyes.

"Allies and enemies," he answered calmly. "The Seven Kingdoms are a vast and varied landscape of families, friends and grudges. Collect your allies, no opposition of the throne can happen without a strong number of supportive houses."

She thought of Ned Stark and how he'd rallied nearly half the Realm against the Crown once. How drastically the world would've changed if he and Robert had won. Everything would be different, but nothing more so than her and Arya. If Arya's father had won at the Trident and then marched on King's Landing next, what would the Realm have become? Would Arya have been raised in Winterfell with her family or in the capital? And then there was Daenerys, who would she be if she wasn't the Dragon Princess of King's Landing? It was a challenge to imagine such things. She brushed it aside to be contemplated later. "I have a list," she informed him. "I put it together when I thought I was helping Rhaegar. Lady Olenna in Highgarden has already committed."

Oberyn appeared impressed. "Good for you."

The praise was short lived. "I haven't reached out to anyone else, I thought Rhaegar would be doing that."

The Dornishman was undeterred. "The Prince doesn't matter," he declared boldly, "and House Tyrell isn't the only allegiance you've garnered."

She studied him carefully. She'd remember if they sought out another house.

With his most tempting smile Oberyn set her straight. "I knew you'd come around," he explained. "When our ship made landfall in Sunspear, I ordered it loaded with men and supplies. When the ship your brother is waiting for finally arrives, it won't be alone."

Daenerys was stunned. "Really?" She did quick calculations. For that to be true Oberyn would have needed to know she was going to accept his offer long before he asked her. How could such a thing be possible? How could he predict what was going to happen so far in advance?

"With a little luck from the Gods, we shall have everything we need in place by the time those slow Dornish ships dock."

"I'll send ravens right away," she proposed, shaking off her surprise and rejoining the conversation.

"Invite them to visit," he suggested.

Daenerys assumed she missed a critical part of their plot. "Who?"

"Everyone on your list," he clarified, "invite them all to the capital and recommend they bring a sizable fighting force with them."

Back to being stunned, she wondered idiotically, "Can I do that? Won't that raise questions about why half of Westeros is marching with their armies?"

"Leave that to me," Oberyn countered. "You just select the houses you want to align yourself with and get them here."

More than a little curious about what he had in mind, she almost asked, until she realized just how much work she had to do. Her curiosities could wait until ravens were carrying her letters across Westeros toward all her potential allies. "I'll start right away. Anything else?"

He nodded. "When you're done with your list of allies, don't forget your list of enemies."

"Enemies?"

"It is important to know who will support you, but it is just as valuable to know who won't." He was finished before deciding to provide a clue. "Start West."

Daenerys understood. Many houses were quite happy and prosperous under Aerys's rule. They wouldn't appreciate his daughter coming in and upsetting things. Naturally first on that list was Tywin and by extension all of the Westerlands. When she was searching for friends, Daenerys hadn't even considered reaching out to any of the Western houses. She was too fearful, assuming their loyalty to Tywin would unravel everything if she tried. It wasn't just the West she needed to worry about either. Any house she contacted could report to Tywin or Varys. If that happened, Daenerys and her rebellion would be over before it began.

R-C

She waited until he was seated at the table and then she took the chair on his immediate right. His shock was forgivable. They had been actively avoiding one another ever since Daenerys told Aemon who his mother was. Given the way he nearly choked on a mouthful of water Rhaegar hadn't anticipated his sister would be interrupting his meal.

Rather than tiptoe around their various issues, Daenerys dove right in. "I won't be here for dinner," she told him.

He cleared his throat, wiped his mouth with a napkin and then gave Daenerys his focus. "What was that?"

His stare was intense and not too long ago it would have been enough to give make her alter her course, but not this time. Not anymore. Rhaegar had abused whatever bond they had. He told her what she wanted to hear and led her to believe things that weren't true, just so he could avoid uncomfortable situations. Daenerys didn't share his aversion to awkward conversations, in fact she was attempting to engage him in one. "I said, 'I won't be here for dinner.'" When he didn't respond she pushed further. "I have plans, outside the castle."

Suddenly everything about him changed. His eyes brightened, a cruel smirk settled on his lips and he barked out a laugh that was cold and bitter. "That's why you're here?" he asked rhetorically. "You've got some nerve sister," he told her, "after what you did, you come to me and ask for a favor. What makes you think…"

She could have let him finish, could have let him labor under his misconception a little longer, but she didn't. She put an end to it right away, using a clear, steady voice that she packed tight with as much authority as she was capable of. "I'm not asking you for anything," she clarified, "I'm informing you – I won't be at dinner."

Rhaegar's annoyance blossomed into anger while she watched. "You can't," he tried.

"Why not?" she challenged hotly. "You leave the keep anytime you want, so does Viserys, why do I require expressed permission?"

"You can't…"

She waited only long enough to ensure he wasn't actually answering her question before she cut him off. "I'm not asking for your permission or your assistance, I'm simply telling you where I'll be, in the event someone notices I'm gone and asks about it." Having said what she'd come to say, she stood up. Servants were bringing food to the table and the last thing Daenerys wanted was to get stuck next to the irritated Prince for the rest of her lunch.

"What are you doing?" he asked without looking at her.

She studied her surroundings, if only to confirm he was speaking to her. "Right now, I'm leaving."

Daenerys almost got away before Rhaegar replied. "Where is your guard?" He gave her a moment to think about it and then tried to cut deeper. "I thought you'd want to spend as much time together as possible before she's gone."

If she didn't have years of extensive practice keeping her emotions off her face, she would have revealed how hurt that comment made her. That said, her mask stayed firmly in place and she gave him nothing. He was right about one thing, Daenerys did want to spend every second she could with Arya, whether she was returning to Dorne or not. Currently her guard was upstairs in the Princess's bedchamber. When she left Arya was writing Sansa a letter. She offered to accompany the Targaryen to lunch but Daenerys declined, wanting her guard to relax and take a much-deserved break. She'd need her energy for the night Daenerys was planning.

Turning to her brother slightly Daenerys flashed him her fakest, most insincere smile before she bowed her head respectfully. "Thank you for your time Prince."

R-C

By the time they finished eating Daenerys still hadn't managed to muster up much in the way of courage. Oh, she thoroughly enjoyed her picnic with Arya. The privacy, the quiet, the warm smiles and gentle touches, it was closer to perfection than she'd been in a while and Daenerys savored every second, but she was only delaying the inevitable.

She tried to tell Arya of her plans on the walk to the stable, and then again while they were riding. She foolishly thought it'd be easier to confess outside the gates. It wasn't. What was she so afraid of? Arya loved her, Arya had been nothing but supportive, and Daenerys had no reason to believe this would be any different and yet she hesitated.

What if Arya thought she'd make a poor Queen or worse found the idea of Daenerys ruling laughable? She could suffer ridicule and mockery from just about everyone in her life, but if Arya joined in, if Arya's voice mixed with the others telling her she was destined to fail, Daenerys knew she'd start to believe it.

She already had doubts. Regularly, she wondered when exactly she lost her mind and how she might find it again. It was crazy to think she of all people was capable of ruling the Seven Kingdoms. Logically she knew she was ill-equipped and underprepared so when that traitorous voice in the back of her mind began drawing attention to her limitations, it made a lot of sense.

She would have given up already had it not been for the vivid memory of Arya being whipped. Being witness to the brutality was bad enough but changing her bandages and seeing the slow progression as the wounds healed was a torture of another kind. The Princess's outrage would be a lot like Arya's scars in the end, plentiful and permanent. She may have been an inexperienced woman who was in too deep, but that didn't matter anymore. What mattered now was ensuring Arya's safety. Hers and millions of people like her. If Daenerys did nothing, and Aerys remained King, more people would suffer as Arya had. Even if he never harmed the Stark again, he would hurt someone, because her father just couldn't help himself.

Every time Arya winced in pain or grit her teeth, Daenerys was reminded of why she agreed to Oberyn's scheme. Something had to change. If no one else was willing to do it, she would. The question remained – how much should she tell Arya? It was a risk either way. They promised to be honest, that they'd face the future together, but did that include treason? If she attempted to overthrow her father and failed, her death would be guaranteed. That should have terrified her, but it didn't. Her true fear would be Arya enduring the same fate.

It was a fool's bargain. She was trying to predict the behavior of a madman. Was it possible he'd execute Arya if they failed? Yes. Was it also possible he'd kill her regardless of whether or not she played a part in the rebellion? Yes. Even if Daenerys gave up on this idea entirely and never spoke of it again, there was still a chance she and Arya would die at her father's hands.

That understanding made it easier to push all of the security related concerns off to the side. She and Arya would never be truly safe until Aerys was no longer King. The next dilemma on her list was an easier one to resolve. Did she want Arya to know? Yes! In fact, Daenerys didn't know if she was capable of seeing this through without Arya. When everyone was looking to her for guidance, she needed someone she could rely on, and that person was and always had been Arya Stark.

"Are you going to tell me what's on your mind?" Arya asked. She was sitting on the blanket, her empty plate set aside, with her legs stretched out in front, while she leaned back on her arms.

"Wh…what?" she stammered. To try and cover her inadequacies she reached down and picked an item off her plate at random, popping it into her mouth. As she chewed the berry, she tried to regain control of her burning cheeks.

"Something has been on your mind," Arya noted accurately. She moved slowly, taking care not to stretch her back needlessly. She leaned forward a bit, scooting closer to where the Princess was. "You don't have to tell me, it's not my business…"

"No!" she supplied emphatically. Her delays had nothing to do with her not trusting Arya, there was no one in this world she trusted more. Her hesitation was born out of her own personal insecurities. She knew it was wrong to punish Arya for that. "I want to tell you," she said, starting with the part she knew to be true, "I just wasn't sure how."

"Tell me now," Arya encouraged.

The food, the wine, the sunset was all forgotten. Folding her legs under her she held out her hands for Daenerys to take. Once she did Arya laced their fingers. The innocent contact was enough to help her get the words out. "Oberyn brought up the idea of…" she stopped and shook her head. It wasn't fair to make it seem like it was all Oberyn's doing. Daenerys needed to take responsibility for her part in it too. "Rhaegar and Aemon don't want to be King…"

Exuding patience Arya waited for Daenerys to finish. She nodded to reassure the Princess she should keep going. It was precisely what Daenerys needed when her tongue felt strange and uncooperative. "Viserys would be a horrible King, but who else is there?"

They were at the crossroads. It was time for Daenerys to admit what she'd been considering. Before she organized her thoughts into a suitable order, Arya spoke. "You." One word that changed everything.

Daenerys heard a gasp that surely came from her. "You knew?"

Arya shrugged, a gesture which to Daenerys's immense relief no longer appeared to cause her lover excruciating pain. It was clear lifting her shoulders took effort and brought discomfort, but Arya didn't wince or tense, she looked just as relaxed as she had when she laid out the blanket for them to sit upon. "It makes sense."

Daenerys's mind was reeling. She'd spend days obsessing over Arya's reaction and how she might tell her and when she finally managed it, the soldier already knew. "And you're okay with that?" she checked carefully.

She shrugged again. "Doesn't matter what I think."

Nothing could be further from the truth. Daenerys couldn't imagine anything more valuable to her than Arya's opinion on the subject. "It does," she disagreed, "to me it does. I'm not asking you to get involved, I know it's dangerous and you never…"

"Stop!" She punctuated her request by pressing a finger to Daenerys's lips. When her hand fell away, she replaced it with her mouth for a kiss. "I love you," she reminded the worried Princess as they separated. She waited for Daenerys to nod in the affirmative and then she clarified her position. "I was willing to help when I thought Rhaegar would be King, do you really think I'd be opposed to seeing you on the throne in place of him?"

Everything she was saying was accurate, she should have been able to anticipate Arya's commitment, but fear wasn't always rational. There, more than a mile from the Red Keep, with only Arya and no one else for as far as the eye could see, Daenerys felt safe enough to expose her vulnerabilities. "Just because you love me doesn't mean I should be Queen," she noted. "I have no experience, I'm no politician, I have no idea what the Realm needs."

As she'd done once already, Arya silenced her again. This time she skipped the finger on her lips and went straight for the kiss. When it was over, she held Daenerys's eyes with her own while providing a counterargument. "That's true," she acknowledged, "you aren't a politician, and you haven't had years of practice preparing you to rule, but maybe that's why you're perfect."

Arya always managed to brighten her mood, and this was no exception, but Daenerys forced herself to be reasonable. This was serious business, and it would have consequences in the lives of millions of innocent people. She needed more than blind ascertains from a woman who loved her. "Because what the Realm needs after my father is a leader who knows even less than he does?" she remarked sarcastically.

"What Westeros needs," Arya specified, "is someone who cares more about the people than they do titles and feasts. The common man and woman have had enough of the scheming and the treachery. Others may be more experienced but letting them replace your father would only lead to more of the same. If we want a future that is better than the past, we need someone different, we need you."

"What are you saying?"

She smiled indulgently. "I'm saying, the Realm doesn't need another politician. We have plenty of those."

She released a short laugh. It felt good, easing the weight on her chest temporarily. "I won't have any idea how to help people," she whispered.

"No, but you want to help them, and it's been a very long time since a Targaryen felt that way about the people he or she ruled." She hadn't thought of it like that. Rather than disagreeing with Daenerys's claim that she'd be out of her depth, Arya's response made her see her role in a whole new light. Maybe that was enough. Maybe she didn't need to know the intricacies of governing or have all of the answers in advance. Those would come in time. What couldn't be taught, was Daenerys's desire to improve the lives of the people. No politician, no matter how skilled would care about the common man and woman of Westeros more than Daenerys did.

"You'll help me?" she verified. In the company of anyone else, she absolutely would have hated the way her voice shook ever so slightly, but with Arya it was okay. She was nervous and she was scared, and she didn't mind that Arya knew it.

"I'm at your service," she swore. "Where do you want to start?"

They'd begin bright and early the next morning. Arya had wanted to get started as soon as their picnic was done, but Daenerys decided overthrowing her father could wait. She spent the remainder of the night in Arya's arms under the stars. Truth be told, her father, the throne and her grand plan didn't cross her mind again.

R-C

They weren't a large group, just Daenerys, Arya, Missandei, Grey Worm, Tyrion and Oberyn. They had thrown around other names but couldn't agree. Daenerys wanted as many allies as she could get, while Arya urged caution. The foster would rather have a handful of allies she could rely on than hundreds she couldn't. Eventually she helped the Princess see reason, and they agreed to keep the circle small, but Daenerys wasn't happy about how limited their initial gathering.

Before they got started Daenerys voiced her concerns one more time to her lover. "Are you sure about this? We could send ravens, gather more support…"

It was the same disagreement they'd been having all morning. "We don't have time. This is enough."

"Six people can't overthrow a King," Daenerys erupted.

To her surprise it was Tyrion who came to her defense. "Actually Princess, that depends almost entirely on who the six people are."

Oberyn contributed from the opposite side of the room. "He's not wrong. You've got the Master of the Coin on your side, that means the treasury is yours."

Daenerys was visibly skeptical. "And that helps us? What do we need to buy?"

"Gold you control is money that can't be spent to oppose you," Oberyn advised wisely. "Whether you spend it or keep it, it's better you have it than Aerys."

Arya could see the instant Daenerys understood the value of controlling the supply of money. She smiled, a bright beaming smile. "You're right, that will help us."

The guard smiled too as she watched her Dragon find her footing. It didn't take long for them to encounter the next obstacle. "No one appreciates the value of gold more than I do, but we'll need more than coins," Tyrion commented. "We need armies, and a lot of them. Enough to give the city guard and the Kingsguard pause."

"The Dornish are with you," Oberyn declared.

As she listened, she couldn't help wondering if Oberyn was making decisions for his house or if that order came from Doran? It didn't matter. They needed allies and they couldn't turn any away.

"Thank you, Prince," Daenerys said to Oberyn kindly.

He raised his glass and had a sip. "A fine gesture," Tyrion acknowledged, "but do we have enough time?"

Arya herself had been wondering that. Not only as it related to the Dornish, but all of it. Raising armies, moving men by the thousands took time, and she didn't know how much they had.

"What do you mean?" Daenerys inquired.

"Sunspear is thousands of miles away. It'll take months for any troops to reach the capital."

Daenerys was immediately dejected, but Oberyn was quick to brighten her sinking mood. "If I ordered them today, you'd be right, which is why I sent word weeks ago."

She learned over the course of many years never to underestimate the Red Viper, but it seemed Oberyn really outdid himself this time. He sat there casually, sipping his wine, enjoying the stunned expressions all around him.

"What?"

"How is that possible?" Missandei asked.

"I didn't know Rhaegar's intentions until recently, how could you know before I did? How would you know I'd agree to replace my father? None of this was happening weeks ago, how could you know?!" By the end Daenerys's questions developed an edge as she accused Oberyn.

Having much more experience with Oberyn than the rest of them, Arya knew before they did how the pieces fit. She just didn't know how Daenerys would receive the admission. "You're right," he said standing from his chair, "I didn't know any of that would happen. I came here expecting to escort Arya back to Sunspear, what I found," he paused, and his eyes shifted to study her carefully, "was something different."

"What does that mean?" Missandei pressed gently.

"I only came for you," he said to Arya, "but if you want to fight this fight, I'll stand beside you."

She didn't deserve a friend like Oberyn. He had a lot to lose and he was putting it all at risk for her. More than a little touched by the sentiment, she went to him for a hug. His firm grip caused pain in her back, but she didn't care. She held on for as long as she could. "You don't have to…" she started to say.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world," be proclaimed boldly. As they separated, he caught Arya's eye and winked. It was then that she knew without a doubt, he was doing this for her, and for Daenerys, but he was also doing it for himself, for Elia, her children and for Dorne. Oberyn always held resentment over the way his sister was treated. She should have guessed he'd jump at the chance to be involved in anything that put in him direct opposition of Aerys, Rhaegar and Tywin.

"The men?" Tyrion asked, trying to get them back on the right path.

"When I sent the ship without us," he clarified, "I also sent word to ready the army. When that ship returns to get us, it'll be bringing with it, tens of thousands of Dornish fighters. They are already on their way."

Daenerys couldn't contain her excitement. She too went to Oberyn for a hug. Standing off to the side Arya heard Daenerys thank her mentor no fewer than three times before they moved apart. When she was done spoiling Oberyn, Daenerys went to stand next to Arya, who elected to stand rather than return to her chair. "So, we have ten thousand Dornishmen?" Tyrion estimated, looking to Oberyn for confirmation.

"Thirty," he corrected, earning a gasp from Missandei. Arya chuckled. Oberyn never did anything halfway. If he was going to provide soldiers he would give as many as he could. She had no doubt they were some of the most talented warriors in all of Dorne.

"Thirty thousand then," Tyrion amended. "Where else should we look for support."

It was quiet for a time while everyone was lost in their own thoughts. "The Tyrells are with us," Daenerys informed them. "I spoke to Lady Olenna when I was in Highgarden."

"What about Lady Musgood?" Missandei proposed. "She likes you and she controls the whole of the Stormlands."

Rather than answer Daenerys looked at the faces around her for approval or rejection. Personally, Arya thought they had a reasonable chance of success in luring Ashara to their side, but it was a road fraught with danger. The Daynes and the Musgoods prospered greatly under Aerys.

Tyrion gave voice to that same fear. "Few benefited more under the King's rule than the Musgoods and the Daynes. Making contact with them might expose us."

Arya's mind raced as she tried to find another solution, but all she had were more problems. Could they risk involving the nobles of Storm's End? Did they offer enough to make the threats worthwhile?

While she was busy contemplating the positives and the negatives, Daenerys had reached a decision. "I'll send a letter to Storm's End."

"Daenerys, that is dang…" Tyrion didn't get to finish.

"I will send a letter, explaining my reasons and asking for aid. I will make it clear that were I Queen, nothing in the Stormlands or Starfall need change." She let that sink in before she asked, "Would they not be more likely to support me if they knew they'd keep Storm's End and their titles?"

Arya felt pride as both Tyrion and Oberyn gave their blessing. It was still a risk, but Daenerys was right, she could minimize it by giving the Musgoods her word that she had no desire to replace them.

Missandei who was taking notes added Ashara's name to her list. "Who's next?"

"I know people in the Riverlands," Arya said calmly, hoping no one would pay her much attention, "I think I can gain their support."

Daenerys and Oberyn already knew why Arya thought contacting Riverrun would work and how she would entice them to listen. That said, neither her lover nor her mentor appeared pleased by the prospect of Arya opening old wounds. Each provided reassuring looks as Missandei added the Riverland houses to her list.

"There is unrest in the Iron Islands," Tyrion said, "Euron Greyjoy is back and he wants the Salt Throne. Last I heard, his brother was putting up a good fight."

"What does that mean for us?" Daenerys asked.

"Hopefully, it means the Iron Islanders will be too busy fighting amongst themselves to take sides."

Daenerys thought for a moment and then chose her course. "Reach out to Pyke. Offer aid and support against this Euron in exchange for their support of me."

"As he said, Princess," Oberyn contributed, "the Greyjoys are fighting themselves, they likely won't have much to give."

She shook her head. "I don't need their men, I need their allegiance. I can't have every kingdom opposing my rule."

It really was quite remarkable. For a woman who claimed she had no skill for politics, it seemed to come naturally to the Dragon. As she'd been with the Musgoods, she was right with the Greyjoys. The men and the ships didn't matter nearly as much as having another prominent family supporting Daenerys's rule.

"We may be able to make similar agreements with the Vale, the North and perhaps even the Twins, it might be the best we could hope for."

It hurt to think of the North and Winterfell belonging to anyone else, even though Direwolf banners hadn't hung from the walls in years. She closed her eyes tight against the flood of memories and then spoke. "The North won't need an agreement, Winterfell is too far away to be of use to either side and the Northmen won't want to get involved anyway."

"The King might summon them."

"He may, but all this will be over by the time they get here. We don't need to worry about them," Arya announced confidently.

"The Vale?" Daenerys asked, ending talk of the North for Arya's benefit.

"I will reach out to the Arryns."

"Friends there too?" Tyrion verified. He wasn't angry or sarcastic, more curious. Somehow that seemed worse to the secret Stark. "I hope you have friends among the Freys too."

"No one has friends among the Freys," she retorted.

"Do I need to worry about this man?" Daenerys asked, clearly tiring of not being involved in the conversation.

"He's an opportunist and a cheat," Oberyn explained. "He'll hug you in greeting but only to get his hands on your purse."

"Do we need him?"

Arya, Tyrion and Oberyn all gave serious thought to the question. "You don't need him," Arya said for the group, "but his support would help."

"Fine," Daenerys said hastily. "How can I bring him to our side? What does he want? Does he need anything?"

"If you approach him directly, you'll end up married to one of his sons," Oberyn predicted with a laugh.

He was joking and she knew it, but she couldn't stop the jealousy that surged through her veins. It was bad enough Daenerys would be marrying Loras. She didn't want to think of Daenerys lying next to a Frey.

"That's not going to happen!" she replied loudly. "What else?"

"All he cares about is gold and titles Princess," Tyrion explained, cleaning up the mess Oberyn made. "He has done well under your father's rule…"

"Is he loyal?" Missandei interrupted.

"He isn't loyal to anything. He frequently sells his children into marriages to improve his standing."

Daenerys's gorgeous face twisted in disgust. "Charming. Since marriage is out of the question, we'll need to think of another approach."

"Money," Missandei said after a stretch of quiet. "He's greedy this Frey, yes?"

"Very,' Tyrion confirmed.

Missandei nodded in understanding. "Good, so we offer to double his business with King's Landing if he supports you," she proposed.

Arya grinned. It was a great idea and it was practically guaranteed to work. Walder Frey didn't care who was sitting on the Iron Throne. If it could double his revenue, he'd bend the knee to a broomstick.

"Good thinking," Daenerys praised the handmaiden, "add him to the list."

"You'll need to get those letters out soon," Oberyn stated. "It'll take time for people to decide and then travel."

Daenerys nodded in understanding. "The rookery is our next stop."

"The letters are important," Tyrion agreed, "but there is one more matter we need to discuss."

"What's that?"

"Varys."

Damn Tyrion for being right. For all their progress, it wouldn't amount to anything if Varys's spies whispered their secrets to the King. They needed him. His system for passing messages and guarding secrets would be invaluable. The only problem was Arya didn't think they could trust him. He hadn't told anyone she was Arya Stark, and he claimed a fondness for Daenerys, so they should be allies in this and somehow, they weren't. She got the impression the Spider was on a side all his own. If that miscreant on the road was telling the truth, then Varys arranged for them to be stopped. Why would he do that? He had to know the contingent of Unsullied would be more than enough to oppose a few bandits, so why bother? Arya and Daenerys had been avoiding him since they got back, even though Arya was fully aware that meeting him, questioning him and looking him in the eye would be the only way to get answers.

She was pulled from her thoughts by Daenerys's hand taking hers. "I guess we're off to see the Spider."

R-C

"Princess Daenerys," Varys gushed as they entered his office.

She kept her eyes on the Spymaster but couldn't control the quirk of her lips when she heard the distinct sound of Arya closing the door behind her. They'd need their privacy. "Lord Varys, I was hoping we might have a moment of your time."

"Of course, I am at your service." Shrewd as ever, Varys seized on the word 'we' and addressed Arya directly. "And Arya, a pleasure to see you again."

Daenerys too peeked at her lover. Arya's face was stoic and her posture tense. It didn't seem like a coincidence that as she stood waiting for Varys to explain his actions, Arya's hand rested just inches from her Valyrian steel sword.

She took a deep breath and then squared her shoulders, facing off with the Spider. "You're pleased to see us?"

"Of course, I simply…"

Daenerys didn't feel obligated to let him finish his self-serving lie. "Forgive me Lord Varys if I find that hard to believe." She watched carefully for any non-verbal response. but Varys was an expert at hiding his emotions. Daenerys couldn't be certain what if anything he was feeling. She decided to try and put him on the spot. "It occurs to me you never intended for us to have this conversation, because you wanted both Arya and I to be killed."

Like a skilled actor, Varys was the embodiment of horror, shock and bewilderment. Daenerys knew it was for show because he'd done such a great job of secreting his feelings earlier. If he could conceal them then, why were they so clear now? The only reasonable answer was that this time Varys wanted her to see them, and if he wanted her to see, it couldn't be believed. "Killed? Why would anyone…"

Again, she interrupted him without remorse. "A man in your position has surely heard about what happened to us on the way back from Highgarden."

"I did," he confirmed calmly. "I wish I could say I was surprised but bandits plague every corner of the Realm. Mindless brutes, blinded by the promise of easy gold."

Daenerys had had about enough of this. She could practically feel Arya fuming behind her. She was letting Daenerys do the talking, but she shared the outrage. "What would you say if I told you that prior to his death one of those mindless brutes named you as the man who promised him his easy gold?"

She leaned a little closer, studying Varys's face for any clue, no matter how slight or fleeting. Instead of denials and honeyed words, which would be the norm after such an accusation Varys's wide face split into a grin. "Well done Princess, I'm pleased you had the courage to ask me directly, and quite forcefully at that."

She brushed the compliments aside. "You don't deny it then? You hired those bandits to kidnap innocent travellers, to block the road and stop us?"

Holding the Targaryen's eye, he nodded along with each charge. "I don't deny it. I did all of those things."

Daenerys wasn't sure what to say. She'd come seeking the truth, but she never thought she'd receive it, and so unequivocally. Varys wasn't even trying to hide or justify his behavior. Daenerys was at a loss for how to respond to that kind of brazen admission.

In contrast, Arya had no problem expressing herself. She took half a step forward until she was standing at Daenerys's side. She now gripped her sword openly, displaying her disapproval. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't carve your heart from your chest and feed it to you," a furious Arya spat. "You swore to me you were loyal to Daenerys and then you do this and place her at risk?!"

There was an awkward silence as Daenerys and Arya waited to hear how he would reply. Varys on the other hand seemed to be waiting for something else. His eyes darted to Daenerys before returning to Arya. Too late she realized he was waiting for her, to see if she'd intervene. For some reason Varys was curious if she'd leash the ravenous Wolf in their presence. Daenerys had no interest in doing that. "Answer her!" the Princess commanded.

"Daenerys was never in danger. The men I hired were given very strict instructions not to harm her." He smiled at the Targaryen as if he were her oldest, dearest friend. "They thought they were to kidnap you and ransom you back to your father."

"People were hurt!" she shouted, thinking mainly of the married couple the scum used as bait. How much had they endured to accommodate Varys's strange game? Oddly, she didn't think of Rolf when she was tallying the victims. He lost his life. Daenerys let Grey Worm kill him, and yet his loss was trivial to her. "Start at the beginning and tell us everything!"

As her anger built, Daenerys was surprised by Varys's ability to remain calm and composed. Begrudgingly, she admitted it did make a certain measure of sense. No matter how enraged she became, she could never hope to be as terrifying as Aerys. After years dealing with the King's fury, Daenerys's was lackluster in comparison.

"I apologize for any hardship my actions caused Princess," he said to start them off, "but a test was needed. I…"

She knew he had more to say, but she couldn't help herself. "A test?! What test?! Missandei could've been hurt!"

Varys allowed her to settle, before he bowed his head. "A regrettable necessity. I have known for a long time that Prince Rhaegar has no intention of taking the throne. Likewise, it became clear to me in recent months than even if given the choice between ruling Westeros and the Wall, Prince Aemon would choose the Night's Watch."

Daenerys didn't see what any of that had to do with her and their blockade, but she couldn't keep silent long enough to find out. "What?! How could you possibly know that? My brother would never confide in you."

"He didn't need to," Varys replied, completely unbothered by Daenerys's flaring temper. "It is the obvious outcome if you watch, listen and know what to check for."

Daenerys had no patience for riddles. "What does that mean?"

He looked away from Daenerys for the first time since the explanation began. "Once you know the truth about the Prince's past, once you understand it, it isn't difficult to predict his motives, wouldn't you agree Lady Stark?"

Daenerys tensed upon hearing Arya's true name. She pushed aside her own unease and rushed to her lover's defense. "Don't make this about her!" she snapped. "We're talking about what you did."

"What I did, I did for the Realm," he declared proudly. "As I said, I knew the Crown Prince wouldn't lead us, and neither would his son, so who does that leave?"

"Viserys," she whispered, for her benefit more than his.

"Indeed, but tell me Princess, do you think the young Dragon would be a loving, benevolent King?" She didn't respond, but he didn't require her to. "A Targaryen was needed, you were the natural choice."

Natural choice? Last choice felt more appropriate. "Me?"

"What does this have to do with your test on the road?" Arya inquired, focusing on what was important in a way Daenerys was incapable of.

"Everything," Varys justified. "Westeros's next ruler needs to be someone who is compassionate and caring, who can make difficult decisions when necessary but who doesn't thirst for blood."

Daenerys tried to keep up. "How did your ploy with the bandits accomplish that?"

Varys moved out from behind his desk. "Princess you showed compassion that day, not only by trading sweet Missandei for the innocent hostages, but by sparing the bulk of the bandits afterward."

"I executed one of them," she reminded him hotly.

"You did, proving you were willing to do what was right instead of what was easiest."

"What!?" She couldn't follow his logic.

"It would have been easier to let Rolf live, or kill them all, but you didn't. You determined a fair price and saw it through to the end, exactly as a leader should."

"You hired them, sent them there, knowing I would kill them?"

"I didn't know," he specified, "but I hoped. The Seven Kingdoms don't need a passive ruler. Forgive me Princess, but I had to be sure you were able to stand on your own two feet. Most of your life you've been content to simply go along with whatever anyone suggests…"

"Careful!" Arya threatened, inching closer to the Spider.

Daenerys looked to her lover, resting a hand on her forearm. "It's okay," she said when it became clear managing a smile wouldn't be possible. "He's right. For most of my life I did just let things happen."

"You could've done the same this time," Varys commented, "you could have permitted Arya, or the Unsullied to choose the course to take, but you didn't. You've grown considerably of late Princess and it's a pleasure to behold."

"All of this, was because you wanted me to be Queen?" she summarized. Her anger bubbled up when he didn't immediately refute the idea. "You could have just asked."

"Actions say far more than words," he decreed wisely. "One never knows how they'll behave in a given0 situation, until they are there. You proved yourself strong, intelligent, determined, fair and principled. Those sound like ideal qualities for the next Targaryen to sit on the Iron Throne."

She couldn't deny his approval felt good. She still had her doubts, still worried that she wasn't as suitable as everyone around her seemed to think, but Varys's support meant something.

"That's why you questioned my loyalty to Daenerys, why you kept my secret?!" Arya accused, pulling Daenerys from her selfish thoughts.

"Any good Queen, like a King, needs trusted people around them. Who better to help advise Daenerys than a Wolf from the most storied house in the North?"

Although Daenerys approved of any strategy that kept Arya close, the guard wasn't as generous. "A traitorous house you mean," she corrected coldly, "and I'm a Sand."

"A necessary fiction now," he specified, "but ask yourself, would you need to continue to lie if Daenerys were Queen? Perhaps the surviving Starks could reclaim the North."

"The Boltons rule Winterfell now, and Sansa is happy in Highgarden, I don't think she'd want to…"

"All I've heard leads me to believe your sister would make a fine Warden, but I wasn't speaking about her."

Daenerys's stomach clenched violently. Was he suggesting that Arya return to Winterfell and reclaim her birthright? She was surely entitled, and deserving, but doing so would force them apart probably forever.

"Maybe your father would like to return to the castle that was his home, take his one surviving son with him when he goes to pay his respects in the family crypt."

The Spider was so skilled, it was near impossible to assess his sincerity. Daenerys for one was having trouble believing her ears. Was he saying that Arya's father was alive and that her brother lived as well? She'd raised the possibility before, but Arya had been adamant. As much as she wanted Ned and Bran Stark to be alive, their existence relied on Aerys showing mercy and that wasn't his strongest trait.

"They're alive?" Arya asked through a gasp.

She'd spent enough time around Varys to know he took advantage of any circumstance, but Daenerys simply refused to allow him to use Arya's family like a weapon. "This is no game. If you wish to aid me, if you want my favor if and when I occupy the throne, I advise your next words be the truest of your life."

He looked at her only long enough to smile kindly, as if her threat was precisely the right thing to say. Then, he shifted his focus to Arya. "Your father survived his beating and miraculously your brother did as well."

"He let them live?"

Varys nodded. "After you left, the King ordered them taken away."

Arya appeared speechless, so Daenerys asked for her. "Where? Where did my father send them?"

"To the Wall," he replied, "to the best of my knowledge both Ned and Bran Stark took the black before Arya here arrived in Sunspear."

"D…did Bran recover?" Arya wondered, sounding nothing like she usually did. Daenerys wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but this wasn't the time nor the place. They needed answers first. The rest, she'd save for later.

"He survived," Varys remarked, a distinction Arya definitely noticed if the visible flinch was any indication. With a repentant expression Varys went on. "He never walked again, the damage to his legs was too extensive, but I'm told he's one of Castle Black's most talented scholars. He's done quite well for himself by all accounts."

With unshed tears in her eyes Arya managed a slight smile. Daenerys could only imagine how difficult this had to be. She mourned her family and now she was learning they lived. It wasn't surprising that her father and the Small Council managed to keep such a secret, but it did make her question what else they were hiding. Hoping to spare Arya any undue pain, Daenerys asked about her father, a topic Arya hadn't gotten to yet. "And Ned Stark? What became of him?"

Varys smiled. "As I'm sure Arya can attest, Ned Stark was a great man. Even when he was fighting opposite Targaryens in Robert's rebellion, there wasn't a fighting man in dragon armor who didn't respect him. He was born to lead men, and that still holds true. In the years since he was banished to the Wall, he rose to become the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

Daenerys was impressed. Peeking sideways she could tell Arya was proud but not all that surprised. She may not have expected her father to be alive, but since he was it seemed almost fitting that he'd risen through the ranks of the Night's Watch to become Lord Commander.

"They're alive," Arya mumbled under her breath in true wonder. Had Daenerys not been so close she wouldn't have heard it.

"I wanted this conversation to happen as soon as you returned from the Reach, but things spiraled out of control and I felt it better to wait."

It wasn't a hard to figure out what he meant. Arya's whipping had happened quickly and unexpectedly, and it had stolen most of Daenerys's attention in the weeks since. Still, she bristled as she thought about the lengths he'd gone to and the pain he inflicted just to determine her worth. "Was all of this necessary?" she asked him. "The bandits, the lies, the secrets?"

"I needed to be sure," he countered, "and now I am. When you are ready to reach out to other houses, send Arya with the correspondence, I'll ensure your messages find the right eyes and no others."

After everything he'd done, she wasn't ready to trust Varys, but she could accept that the endeavor she was undertaking would be much easier if she could count him among her friends. "I'd appreciate that very much."

"Many in the Realm would gladly fight for the chance to see someone new on the throne, but not all will be so selfless. Some might require compensation to join you and if that's the case, our friend from Pentos has offered to pay any amount you require."

"The Magister?" Arya realized as she came back to the conversation. Daenerys couldn't begin to imagine how chaotic her thoughts were after what they uncovered. She promised herself as soon as they were finished with Varys she'd devote as much time as it took to help Arya make peace with her new reality. They'd gone to Highgarden for Sansa, if the Wall was their next stop, then so be it.

"I wrote to Illyrio more than a year ago, trying to enlist his support. He agreed but requested a meeting with the would-be King before he'd fully commit."

Daenerys understood. "My nameday."

"Right. He was impressed with you and told me before he returned home that he'd do anything in his power to aid you. He left a sizeable sum of gold in my care, and should you need it, it is yours."

She was tempted to tell him they didn't need Illyrio's help. She had Tyrion and he controlled the treasury. The words were on the tip of her tongue before she bit them back. She stopped herself and not only because it was wrong to expose Tyrion as a friend. The Crown was wealthy, but she had a hunch that their stockpile of gold was dwarfed by what the Magister was offering. She didn't need to like Illyrio to make use of him.

A knock on the door stopped whatever their next topic would've been. A servant poked his head in, but only after Varys invited him to. "Apologies m'lord, but the King requests you in the throne room."

Daenerys's heart pounded away behind her ribs. She knew it was unlikely for her father to know what she was planning, yet the anxiety she felt was real.

Her affliction didn't seem to be crippling Varys in the same way. He was perfectly at ease, even managing a smile. "Very well, please tell His Grace that I'll be right there."

The young man bowed his head. "I will m'lord, but the King requested the Princess attend as well."

Daenerys felt sick. He knew. He had to know. Why else would he summon her? She knew the servant was waiting for a response, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. The Spider picked up on that. "We will be there shortly."

Satisfied the young man took his leave. Daenerys had dreaded going to the throne room many, many times, she'd even feared she might fall victim to her father's madness once or twice, but those sensations were nothing compared to the guilt and terror knotting in her stomach now.

Suddenly Arya was in front of her, filling the entirety of the Princess's sightline. "You can do this," she said, "you're a Dragon." The words came accompanied by Arya gripping her hand, squeezing it for effect. It helped. She was still anxious but whatever was waiting for her, Arya would be with her every step. That counted for something.

R-C

She buried it deep for Daenerys's benefit. The Princess was worried enough, she didn't need to know that Arya shared her concerns. Had they been careless? Had someone overheard something and gone to the King? Planning had been underway for less than a day, had they already made a grave and fatal error?

Each time Daenerys looked over her shoulder the guard tried to provide a measure of reassurance. If this was the end, she didn't regret it. She didn't regret leaving Dorne, loving Daenerys or supporting her in her quest to replace her father. Even if one or all of those things led her to a painful death. The truth was, she'd rather be beside Daenerys than anywhere else, even if the Targaryen was destined to face an enraged King.

Varys's presence complicated things. Arya couldn't speak freely. She didn't speak at all after they left the Spymaster's office. If they were alone, she would have reminded Daenerys that she loved her, and that they'd face what came united, but she couldn't. Now she had to rely on her eyes to convey the messages her mouth couldn't.

The Spider left them almost as soon as they passed through the doors. He was going to the opposite side of the room. On the walk toward the throne Arya noticed a large audience. In addition to the court, she saw the entire Small Council, a handful of visitors and Oberyn. The Dornish was near the back but placed himself in a spot Arya wouldn't be able to miss him. Was that coincidence? She looked to her mentor for guidance. Did he know anything? Did she need to be worried? He smiled at her. Not the cocky, overconfident expression he used for others but the warm, loving one he saved for Ellaria and his girls.

Her back ached as a constant reminder of the dangers the King posed. She'd just learned her father and brother survived their encounters with the Mad King and instead of thinking about that, she was here, surrounded by some of the same people who did nothing to help them on that day. It was hard not to get swallowed up by the endless stream of questions and memories. Why did Aerys let her father live? How had Bran survived? Could she trust Varys? If he was lying, it was oddly specific. If he thought it would benefit him somehow, the Spider was not above using her family. She could obsess later, for the time being Daenerys needed her. She needed her lover there and strong, not distant and unhelpful.

After seeing Daenerys to her chair, Arya took the long route to her designated spot. She went around the Princess's chair instead of taking an immediate turn. This carried her behind Daenerys on her way to the wall where she was required to stand. As she went she casually raised her hand and used the softest touch of her thumb to trace a line across Daenerys's back, between her shoulders. Her intent was to remind Daenerys she wasn't alone, the gasp Arya heard in reply proved she was successful.

She searched for any hint about what brought them. Rhaegar didn't address his sister at all, which might not bode well, except he was still nursing a grudge over her decision to tell Aemon about Lyanna. His refusal to acknowledge her didn't necessarily mean they'd been discovered. No one seemed to be paying them undue attention, which was good, but hardly definitive.

"It is a sad day," the King told them as he called his meeting to order. Out of Daenerys's view, she didn't try quite as hard to conceal her worry. She stood rigid, unnaturally tight as her hand rested against her sword, just in case. "We are here to mourn. The Realm is weaker today than it was yesterday. We need to be strong, need to prepare for the coming storms and that will be harder now."

From atop his throne Aerys stopped talking and looked toward his children. Arya feared the worst and pushed off the wall taking a full step toward the Princess in an effort to protect her, before the King continued. "Ser Ilyn Payne, a loyal soldier and a friend is dead."

Relaxing, Arya retreated back to the wall. Missandei was there, giving her a concerned look which Arya tried to remedy without words. She was fine. They were all fine. Aerys hadn't called them there because he learned of his daughter's betrayal, he did it because Ilyn Payne, the royal torturer was dead. She pictured him in her mind, the smug prick who beat her with a smile. Arya didn't know him well, but their brief encounters led her to understand him quite well. She saw a flawed man, who liked to punish others. She guessed that after he lost his tongue, he took pleasure in inflicting similar pain onto others. He'd been spilling blood for Aerys long before Arya got whipped. She was merely the most recent example. She wasn't sad he was gone, in fact it cheered her. Her reasons for rejoicing went far beyond her battered back that still ached. All Arya could think of in that moment was her mother and brother. Payne cut Catelyn's throat, a sin more unforgivable to Arya than a hundred whippings. When Robb futilely tried to protect their mother, he died too on the Mute Knight's blade.

She rejoined the present as Tywin explained what they knew. "According to Grand Maester Pycelle it happened quick. He was fine at dinner but fell ill shortly thereafter. By daybreak he was unconscious, and he died not long ago."

It wasn't quite the death he deserved, and worse, it wasn't at Arya's own hand, but she wouldn't quibble. Payne was dead and the world was better for it. Maybe now her family could rest a little easier.

"Do you know the cause?" Tywin asked the Maester.

The old man who tended to Arya's back after Payne split it, spoke, sounding as old and disinterested as he always did. "Brain fever most likely. It's the only thing that accounts for the suddenness of his symptoms and the rapid decline into death."

"Do we know what causes it?" Tywin wondered.

"It's a blood infection," Pycelle informed them. "Poor Ser Payne could have had it for years. It lies dormant in the blood for a time before becoming active and spreading through the body, eventually reaching the brain."

"And there are no symptoms? He couldn't know he had it?"

Pycelle hummed as he considered the question. "Initially symptoms are minor," he paused before listing a few," tiredness, aches and pains but nothing that would provide warning of what was to come."

"At least it was fast," Varys supplied from near the Hand.

"Oh yes, m'lord," Pycelle agreed. "Fine one day, gone the next, we should all be so lucky."

If that was luck, Arya was happy to go without.

R-C

Sitting there next to her brother, near her father, in full view of the court, Daenerys smiled. She had to clamp her lips together to keep from laughing. Ilyn Payne was dead. That was why Oberyn had ordered her and Arya away. He didn't want them implicated. She tried to catch the Dornish Prince's eye, but he stayed focused on the King and the Grand Maester, as if what they were discussing was the most interesting thing in the world.

Brain fever may have been the official diagnosis, but Daenerys knew better. When she wanted Payne's blood, it was Oberyn who urged her to bide her time and hold her tongue. He promised they'd have their vengeance and now they did. She should have seen it, smelled it, the minute he tried to get them out of the keep. It was rather obvious once she knew.

She thought about the dead man. Ilyn Payne, who'd given up his tongue years ago and now lost his life. She felt no sympathy for him. Where that emotion should have been, she felt righteous fury. She remembered how delighted Payne was to whip Arya, how much pleasure he took from every single lash. While those around her were mourning him, Daenerys was basking in her hate. He deserved what he got. Knowing Oberyn the poison he used was not only untraceable, but also slow. After what he'd done to Arya there was no chance Oberyn offered the torturer an easy end. Daenerys took a perverse pleasure from that knowledge. She hoped it hurt.

It was when her father finally released them that Oberyn Martell's dark eyes found her violet ones. Just before he turned to walk away, he flashed her a smile and winked. This time she couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped. She didn't have any doubts, but if she had, that would've rid her of them. That was a confirmation if she'd ever seen one.

As people began to move freely and speaking about the news, Daenerys remained directly in front of her chair, deep in thought. Ilyn Payne was dead. Pycelle was wrong, he hadn't died of a random fever, he was executed by Oberyn Martell for his heinous crimes against Arya Stark. In Daenerys's opinion whatever agony he suffered in his final moments, it wasn't enough.

Somewhere deep inside she knew a line had been crossed. The first of her enemies had been slain. A lazy glance around the room let it be known there were plenty more. She was going to be busy, very busy. Not all would need die, but Payne's death wouldn't be the last either.

Daenerys's reign had begun.

Author's Note: First, I'd like to apologize for the delay in getting this chapter posted. My health has made both writing and editing difficult recently. Hopefully it won't interfere going forward, but if it does, I want those who are reading to know that I will finish this story, regardless of how long it takes.

Secondly – Payne is dead, Ned and Bran are alive, and Varys did arrange for the bandits but only to test Daenerys's capacity to be Queen. Congrats to anyone who predicted all of that.

As I said, editing has been difficult, so please forgive any errors. If I overlooked a major mistake, let me know and I'll correct it when I can.

Thanks

RC