Daenerys was in high spirits as she walked around the castle with Arya in step beside her. Why shouldn't she be? The day began in her favorite way. She woke up tangled in Arya's arms and found her lover sleeping peacefully next to her. No nightmares, no pain, just a soft, contented smile curling her lips. Selfishly she hoped the soldier was thinking of her.
It took them longer than it should've to abandon the bed they shared and dress. If asked Daenerys would proclaim until her dying breath that Arya was just as guilty as she was for the delays, but in truth the Targaryen was the one to blame. She couldn't help it. The first time she interrupted Arya's search for her armor, she was rewarded with a rich, full laugh. After that, Daenerys made it her mission to hear that wonderful sound again. It took commitment and time, but she was successful. She didn't feel an ounce of remorse either, the world could wait forever if it meant Daenerys got to see Arya so carefree more often.
Outside her bedchamber there were things to be pleased with too. She had guests. Not just visitors but guests. From the day Grand Master Pycelle told the castle that the evil Ser Payne was dead Daenerys felt she crossed an invisible sort of line. She had changed and there was no going back to who she was before. Since then, she'd been busy, working toward the goals she set for herself. Usually, she felt she was going in the right direction, Arya swore she was, Tyrion and Missandei confirmed it, but the would-be-Queen had many secret insecurities. The arrival of Margaery, Sansa and Loras was a visible sign that they were closer to the end than they had been. She wasn't a fool. She knew that Sansa hadn't come for her, she came for Arya and similarly it was probable, if not likely that Margaery only came because Sansa did. Loras was there because they had roles to play, as man and woman, betrothed and preparing to marry. The arrival of Sansa, Margaery and Loras could be explained away, but what about the thousands of men they brought with them? The soldiers Lady Olenna sent were serving under Loras's command. They were tangible evidence of progress.
If Payne's death was the first step, then the addition of the soldiers from the Reach was a giant leap. It was both humbling and terrifying. Lady Olenna was trusting her with the future of House Tyrell. Those men with their swords and their armor, so much like Arya, were counting on her to see them returned to their homes, their wives and their children. Separate from her concerns however there was another sensation coursing through her. It had been there since Loras told her about the men he brought, and it hadn't abandoned her yet, not when she ate or slept, kissed Arya or obsessed over the future. It took time to identify it, and a little longer to accept it, but now she'd made her peace with it. The arrival of the Tyrells and their men was exciting, and it thrilled Daenerys completely, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
She was pulled from her thoughts by the feather-light touch of a familiar hand against the small of her back. It was little more than a grazing of two fingers near her spine but since the woman attached to those fingers was Arya, Daenerys reacted as if she'd been struck by a bolt of lightening from the Gods.
A quick study of their surroundings made it clear why Arya had reached out. They were nearing the throne room and a large mass of people were milling about, clustered together in small groups, talking amongst themselves. Daenerys had little interest in interacting with anyone from court, so she made the decision to redirect them. "Let's find another way," she suggested.
The guard nodded in agreement and came to a complete stop while she waited for Daenerys to take the lead. Satisfied that the potential for danger had passed, Arya attempted to lower her hand. The Princess lashed out with a speed that would have been alarming in another situation. She took Arya's hand in hers and guided it back to her body, exactly where it had been. "Stay close," she whispered. They had some distance from the nobles, so she trusted Arya would understand Daenerys's choice to whisper was designed more to tease and less a matter of secrecy.
"Daenerys," Arya warned, though the royal could see she was fighting a smirk.
Emboldened Daenerys chose to continue their game. Not only had Arya failed to reclaim her hand she had also begun moving it, up and down, rubbing lazy circles through the fabric at seemingly random intervals. That was an invitation if Daenerys had ever seen one. "What?" she inquired as innocently as she could. "There are a lot of people about. I wouldn't feel safe if you were out of reach."
Her justifications were self-serving and hollow, but Arya neglected to point that out. Instead, she responded with, "Well, we can't have the Dragon Princess feeling unsafe, can we?"
"If you truly wish to improve my mood," Daenerys proposed, "you could try lowering that hand of yours just a little." Grey eyes stared straight into hers and Daenerys wanted to drown in them. A fire tore through her body, scorching everything in its wake. It was a heat she only felt when she was with Arya.
Although she did a commendable job of trying not to show it, Daenerys could see that Arya was tempted to heed the instruction. They both knew it wasn't safe, but the Princess was feeling especially brave. Rhaegar knew about their relationship, Aemon knew. After Arya's whipping and Daenerys's distress it was likely most of the court suspected, so why confine themselves to her bedchamber when they had a whole castle to explore. She wasn't about to kiss Arya in the crowded hallway – although there was no question she'd enjoy it thoroughly if she did - and she would need to be mindful to ensure the King and his Hand weren't around when she was feeling adventurous but aside from that, Daenerys didn't see a valid reason she couldn't torment the woman she loved, just a little.
Since Arya didn't appear inclined to take Daenerys's suggestion, the Princess tried to use brute force to accomplish her objective. She blatantly tried to push Arya's hand to the spot she wanted it.
In what should have been a shock to exactly no one, it turned out she was no match for Arya's strength. Despite her efforts, their layered hands didn't reach the curve of her ass as she hoped they might. "Behave," the Wolf growled as her eyes shifted to the men and women gathered less than twenty feet away.
Daenerys wasn't as concerned. Those people didn't matter. Most of them were selfish, greedy and manipulative. Daenerys intended to replace the large majority of them when and if she sat atop the Iron Throne. That meant that for the bulk of the people in their eyeline their days of power and prestige in King's Landing were coming to an end, even if they didn't yet realize it. "You don't really want me to," she noted confidently, trying again to get Arya's rough hand to stray.
Although her hand stayed where it was, the soldier gave Daenerys her full attention. She was once again amused, and this time did nothing to conceal that fact. "Mighty sure of yourself aren't you Princess?"
Her heart picked up speed in her chest. Oh, how she loved Arya. She loved Arya always, but moments like these were some of her favorites, the fun, the back and forth. "There are many things I do not know," she admitted freely, "a few I do and this one thing I'm absolutely certain of."
"And what is that exactly?"
"You," she answered without thinking.
Arya barked out a laugh that filled the Targaryen with joy. She loved being the cause of Arya's happiness. "Me," she began feigning disapproval, "you think you know me?"
"I do," Daenerys declared boldly, "better than I've ever known anything."
Outwardly Arya maintained a stoic posture, but there were subtle clues her words were having an impact. Be it the passion visible in her eyes, or the slow, torturously delightful shifting of Arya's hand as it slid down Daenerys's back. "How can you know me?" Arya wondered, "I barely know myself."
"Because I see you, the real you, for who you truly are."
Her free hand moved to the Sun marking the front of her breastplate. "This is who I am, I'm a soldier."
"Yes," Daenerys agreed quickly, "but that isn't all you are. You're also a loving sister, a kind, generous friend, a protector of those you care about, and at your core a good woman."
The pretense of their game was suddenly forgotten, and Arya moved closer. For one blissfully terrifying instant Daenerys thought the guard meant to kiss her. Whether she stopped herself at the last moment or always intended to resist, Daenerys couldn't say, but she did know that when their eyes met, Arya's were lit with unrestrained desire. "You see all of that when you look at me?"
"That and so much more," Daenerys vowed.
She was almost hurt when Arya broke their intense staring contest. She took a quick look around before focusing on the Dragon's face. "You forgot one thing," she said, her wandering hand finally reaching Daenerys's ass.
"W…what's that?" she asked breathlessly, cursing Arya for compelling her to speak right when she was distracted by her busy fingers.
Any question she had about whether her actions were purposeful vanished when Arya smirked at the royal's stutter. Daenerys was preparing to defend herself, to remind her lover that she was just as vulnerable to teasing, but she never got the chance. There was still a question hanging between them. "I may be all of those things, I may be some or none, but the one thing I know I am, is madly in love with you." Arya's words stole all the thoughts from her mind, leaving her staring dumbly at the woman she adored. Mercifully, Arya didn't expect or require a response of any kind. Rather she used her hand on Daenerys's behind and gave her a gentle push to get her moving. "Come with me, let us go upstairs, we'll need some privacy for what I have in mind."
R-C
"Are you sure about this?"
"Yes," Arya answered calmly for the third time. She didn't mind repeating herself, or that her sister kept asking when Arya had already made her feelings known. Sansa had been the same when they were girls, she asked again and again until she could make sense of what she was hearing. As a child, it annoyed Arya to no end, but now, she'd wait as long as it took. This situation wasn't easy for any of them, and if Sansa needed a minute to come to terms with it, then she could have it.
"Really?"
"Think about it, you know Aerys shouldn't be King."
Although her lips had already parted to make another attempt, they closed in silence as Arya's point reached the elder Stark. "I know, but…"
Over breakfast the siblings sat down, and Arya explained in detail what Daenerys had planned for the Realm. Margaery, Missandei and Daenerys were all downstairs in the main hall, which meant the sisters wouldn't be disturbed. Sansa had a few of the pieces, learning bits of disjointed information from Margaery, Olenna and even Loras, but the specifics scared her. Sansa like Arya had plenty of reasons to fear the Mad King's wrath.
"It's going to be okay. It's a good plan and if we're smart about it, we'll succeed."
"You said Rhaegar doesn't want the throne," Sansa recalled.
"He doesn't and our cousin is equally uninterested."
Calling Aemon their cousin had the desired effect, causing Sansa to stop and smile. The two hadn't interacted much, but when their paths crossed Sansa did speak to him, however briefly. He was formal and guarded, unlike how he was when he conversed with Arya, but that was only because she spent months earning his trust. Sansa hadn't had that opportunity yet. "He really wants to go to the Wall, huh?"
"It's his dream," Arya agreed.
"And what's your dream?" Sansa inquired, putting her on the spot, her voice hardening a bit as she did. "Why are you doing this? Why aren't you halfway to the Wall right now, eager to see Father and Bran?"
She bit down hard on her lower lip to ensure she didn't say something rude or hurtful. She knew Sansa was just trying to understand. Patience wasn't her most abundant trait, but she'd do her best. "I can't leave," she began. She had more to say but was interrupted.
"Oh right, you have to stay with Daenerys. Why though?"
She barely managed to resist rolling her eyes. "You know why. I love her." She let that sink in for a moment and then turned things around on Sansa. "Why aren't you riding North?" she pressed. "You could have left as soon as I told you about Father, but you didn't."
The question made her sister uncomfortable. "I came to see you, to make sure you were okay," she defended weakly.
"I know," Arya replied with a soft smile, "and I appreciate it, but now you've seen with your own eyes that I'm on the mend, so why remain?"
She knew she was making progress when Sansa averted her eyes. "Margaery wanted to stay and visit, with you, Daenerys and Missandei," she admitted.
"You could have left, couldn't you?" Arya proposed, working again to show Sansa the parallels in their lives and priorities.
"It's not the same thing," she resisted. "Margaery would never ask me to help make her Queen."
With a sigh she attacked the problem from another angle. "Is there anything you wouldn't do for Margaery, to make her happy, to help her fulfill her dreams?"
Rather than respond, Sansa saw the point Arya was working her way toward. "So, it's Daenerys's dream to rule the Seven Kingdoms? That's a lofty goal for a third-born child, even a Targaryen."
Ignoring the snide remark, Arya set the record straight. "Daenerys dreams of making the Realm a better place, for all people noble and common. Initially she thought she could do that by supporting Rhaegar and helping him rule once he was King. When it became clear he had no intention of replacing their father, she had to find another way."
"What of the other brother?"
"Viserys," Arya elaborated with a grim expression and the tone to match. "His rule would make Aerys's look like child's play."
Sansa scoffed in disbelief. "You can't mean that. How can he possibly…"
Arya held up her hand to stop Sansa's objection in its tracks. She didn't know him, didn't know his shortcomings and his grievances. Sansa might doubt his ability to be worse than Aerys, but Arya was confident he'd achieve horrible new heights that would give even his father pause if he were permitted to rule unopposed. Her mind raced as she tried to select the right words to explain a man as complicated and vile as Viserys. "He is his father's son in all the worst ways," she eventually said. "He is entitled, defiant, arrogant and blood-thirsty just to name a few. In this place there is little everyone agrees on, but it is widely held that Viserys becoming King would be the worst thing to happen to Westeros in decades."
"Wow," Sansa mumbled, "I've heard stories, and some comments, around Highgarden, from you, Daenerys, and Margaery but I never believed he could be that bad."
"He is," she confirmed confidently, nodding to emphasize it.
"And you think he is just going to allow his sister to replace him?"
"He is Lord of Dragonstone now. He isn't here. If we do this right, we'll have the city and the castle before he learns what's happened."
"And then what?" Sansa pushed.
"His father gave him five thousand men. Even if he brought them all, they'd be no match for the troops Daenerys would command."
"You think he'd attack King's Landing?"
"I have no idea what goes on in Viserys's mind," Arya stated plainly, privately glad she didn't have to see the things that lurked there. "I think it's just as likely that he'll hide away on the island and lick his wounds, but if he comes here, we'll be ready."
"Do you think Daenerys would actually kill him?"
The answer to Sansa's question was immediate and unwavering. Arya felt it in her bones and in her heart. She thought of the woman she loved, a woman who threatened her own brother with a knife to protect a traitor's daughter. She didn't have any doubts that if Viserys forced the issue, Daenerys would do what needed to be done. Arya knew it was a possible outcome, Seven Hells, she knew it was more likely than not, but she didn't think admitting to Sansa that Daenerys had the potential to be a kin-slayer would ease any of her concerns. "I don't know," she lied, feeling guilty instantly.
"We could go." Sansa proposed after sipping her juice, "leave all this behind. You could come with us back to Highgarden." She was done and then added, "You could bring Daenerys too. You could both get far away from the throne and its nonsense."
"It's too late for that," Arya countered honestly. Armies were moving and they were doing so on Daenerys's pledge that she intended to remove her father from power. The point of no return was behind them now. "Daenerys is committed to seeing this through, and I'm going to be by her side every step of the way."
The redhead nodded, not in agreement but more so in understanding. Arya suspected she wasn't shocking Sansa with her refusal. It was probably predictable. They sat in an easy quiet for a few moments before Arya said, "I've promised myself to Daenerys, in this, and in all things. My place is here strange as it seems, you on the other hand…"
"What about me?" Sansa spat harshly, not letting her sister finish the thought.
"You have a life in Highgarden, your shop, a woman you love, friends, the Tyrells."
"So," she whined childishly.
"It's a good life Sans," Arya conceded, "so much better than what I worried you were going through all those years."
"And?"
"I'm happy for you is all," she summarized. "The life you have, it's the kind of life Mother and Father would want for you."
Mentioning their parents made an already tense conversation all the more emotional. "What are you saying?"
Arya sighed. "They wouldn't… I don't want you risking all that you've got for this. This isn't your fight, and you don't need to be a part of it." As she spoke, she remembered telling Daenerys that Sansa would join them as soon as she learned of the plot. Perhaps that had been ambitious and unreasonable.
"You want me to return to Highgarden?" Sansa realized.
"I want you to be happy and safe. There is danger here. At any moment we could be discovered, for our plans or for being Starks and it would cost us our lives."
Suddenly Sansa was on her feet. "You think I don't know that?!" she shouted. "My heart was in my throat the entire ride. I couldn't believe I was coming here. I wanted to turn back so many times."
"Why didn't you?"
"I needed to see for myself that you were alright. I needed to be sure." The words poured out of her and Arya stood too, pretending not to notice the glassy quality her sister's clear eyes had suddenly taken on.
"I know you came here for me," Arya assured her, "and I love you for it, but that doesn't mean you have to stay. You've done what you set out to do. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to get back to your shop." Arya was done and then she decided that blatant honesty was likely the best way to help Sansa see where she was coming from. "In truth, I'll sleep better once I know you're far away from here, from Aerys, Tywin, Rhaegar and the rest."
"And how do you think I'll sleep," she protested. "knowing you're here, planning what you're planning? Do you think I'll worry less with hundreds of miles between us?"
"I'll be fine," Arya swore, knowing it was what her sister needed to hear.
She thought that would be enough, but without warning Sansa threw up her arms. Before Arya could react, thin fingers were combing through red locks. "I can't do it," she announced, sounding almost defeated.
"Can't do what?"
On the verge of tears again, Sansa elaborated. "From the moment I got here, I wanted to leave. It turns my stomach to see the Targaryen banners hanging on the walls, to walk down the hall and see some of the same people who were there that day. It's sick. All I want is to go home, but I refuse to go alone. I won't leave here with nothing, not like the last time."
Tentatively she approached her frantic kin. "This is nothing like that. You aren't alone. It's not the same at all. I will see you again, and Margaery…"
"Margaery intends to stay and help you in your quest," Sansa declared. "I didn't know why she was so eager to come, but now it makes sense. She's been meeting with her grandmother a lot recently and I suppose this is why."
Although it seemed she was speaking to herself more than Arya, the younger woman still replied. "I'm not certain, Daenerys and I didn't know you and Margaery were coming, we were just expecting the troops."
"You got more than that," she corrected after a humorless laugh. "Mace Tyrell's son is leading the army and his daughter has decided she will participate too. Trust me when I tell you, if Margaery sets her mind to something, it's as good as done. She won't leave, regardless of the cost. She's here until the end."
Their long talk had brought them around full circle. "What does that mean for you?"
She laughed in reply. Arya could tell it was meant to be bitter, but it didn't come out that way. "Perhaps," she allowed, "I understand why you choose to stay more than I let on."
Arya nodded. Even when Sansa was opposing her, she knew deep down a part of her understood Arya's motives. Still, having the confirmation felt nice. "I don't want you to regret this."
The elder was quiet for a time, not long enough for Arya to grow concerned, just long enough to really consider her various options and weigh them against one another. "I think I'd regret leaving more," she confessed quietly.
"I know exactly how you feel."
With a laugh, real and honest, Sansa shook her head. "Yes, I wager you do."
"But," Arya interjected, trying to capitalize on the turn the discussion had taken, "at least I'll have a front row seat to Aerys's downfall."
Sansa moved around the table and clutched Arya's hand. "Well," she said with a wicked gleam in her eye, "when you put it like that."
R-C
"Something's missing," Missandei remarked as Daenerys was just seconds away from venturing out of her room for the first time that morning. Instinctively, she froze and did a quick assessment of her appearance. The green dress wasn't one of her favorites, but she saw nothing that would prevent her from leaving. With care she reached up and ensured the knot in her ribbon was appropriately secure, it was. With a tired exhale, she wondered what her friend meant. She'd decided to forgo jewelry, feeling beautiful enough after another night with Arya to go without it. Again, and again, she checked herself for fault and nothing made itself known. Finally, she couldn't hold her tongue. "What is it? What's wrong? Is it the dress?"
"The dress is lovely," Missandei exaggerated, "and nothing is wrong."
Daenerys felt her eyes narrowing as she sought to understand. "What do you mean? You said…"
"I said," Missandei cut in, "that something is missing, and it is. I can't recall the last time I've arrived in the morning to find Arya not here. Since Prince Rhaegar made his desire to return her to Sunspear known, you two have been all but sewn together." She transitioned from advisor to a concerned friend with ease. "Did you two have a fight?"
Daenerys relaxed, relieved the only problem was Arya's absence. "No of course not, we are great," she insisted, smiling as she heard the happiness in her voice. "I sent her away, I wanted her to have some time with Sansa. They have to be careful in the castle, but I can ensure they get to share a meal and a private conversation at least."
Satisfied with the explanation, Missandei moved on. "Your ruse with Loras is working. The castle is buzzing with rumors about the depth of your relationship." She was done, and then chose to share a final detail. "I even heard one gossip noting that Arya had been replaced."
Outwardly, she did all in her power to maintain a mask of indifference. Inside however she was reeling. How could anyone think Arya was replaceable? Her outrage wasn't logical, she knew that. The whole reason she invited Loras to visit, why their walks frequently took them to the portions of the castle where members of the court tended to congregate, even her willingness to cling to his side, giggling and grinning like a Princess in love, it was all so people would see it, and think exactly what that woman, whoever she was, did. It was the necessary first step in creating the fiction that she and Loras Tyrell were happily betrothed and that they'd one day be man and wife.
"What happens to Loras if we succeed and you are no longer required to marry?" Missandei asked to bring Daenerys out of her thoughts.
Having given it a lot of thought, she knew exactly what she would do when there was no reason to maintain the act. She had a plan for Loras, one that she hadn't shared with her would-be husband, her very-real lover or anyone else. "I'll set him free," she eventually said. "He didn't want this marriage any more than I did. What happens after that, will be up to him."
As she always did, Missandei read between the lines. She sensed that Daenerys did not want to discuss it and moved on without further comment. "I received a raven last night," she said as they stepped out into the hall. Grey Worm was waiting. It was becoming habit that he served as guard at any time when Arya couldn't.
Daenerys smiled at the Unsullied, but the majority of her focus was on Missandei and her letter. It was plenty rare for the handmaiden to get correspondence. Few knew Missandei was in the Red Keep and fewer still would want to communicate with her. While it was common for those Daenerys was closest to, to inquire about Missandei's welfare or wish her well in the letters they wrote to the Princess, no one had ever reached out to the slave directly. It made Daenerys curious. "Good news I hope?" she said, trying to ease them into the subject.
"Very good," she confirmed with a smile. She hesitated just long enough to verify they wouldn't be overheard and then she continued. "I asked the courier I sent North with your letter to let me know when he neared the Wall."
Suddenly, Daenerys was very excited. "And he is?"
She nodded. "According to what he wrote, he made very good time and was fortunate with the weather as well. He stopped for the night at one of inns and realized it was likely his last chance to send word."
Daenerys was near tears. She hadn't asked Missandei to demand updates from the courier, she had done that on her own, and she'd done it for Daenerys's benefit. "Thank you, my friend," Daenerys said, taking Missandei's hand and squeezing. "I spent an hour at the map the other afternoon while Arya was with Aemon trying to calculate how soon I could expect my letter to find him, but over so great a distance and with such volatile weather, it was hard to reach any conclusion that didn't feel like little more than a stab in the dark."
In an effort to cheer her, Missandei made clear the good news they had. "Soon, you'll be one step closer to reuniting Arya and Sansa with her father and brother."
Feeling quite undeserving of a friend like Missandei, Daenerys pulled her in for an unexpected hug. They were separating when Margaery came around the corner in search of them. "I can come back," she offered.
"Nonsense, we were just about to go looking for you." With Arya and Sansa together, it felt like the perfect opportunity to catch up with her friend from Highgarden.
"You were?" Margaery appraised the Targaryen and read right through her. "You miss Arya and assumed I was in a similar state without Sansa?"
With a huff, Daenerys's lips turned down. Had she been so transparent? Crossing her arms over her chest she glared at the noblewoman. "If you'd rather spend the morning alone, I'm sure Missandei and I can find something else to keep us distracted."
"No!" Margaery almost yelled. Contrite and caught, she adjusted her volume and her attitude. She bowed her head before saying, "I would very much like to accept your generous offer." Daenerys who was blushing after being teased for missing Arya, was now in good company, since Margaery's cheeks changed color too. "What is on your schedule?" she asked in a clear attempt to get them to another topic, any other topic.
One of the last things Arya did before going to meet Sansa was take a walk to Tyrion's office. He had only one meeting for Daenerys, but she'd gladly take it. "I need to meet with a family from Flea Bottom. A recent injury has kept the father from being able to work and it's feared his wife and children will starve before he can again earn a proper wage." She looked at the young woman from the Reach, "Not the most exciting of appointments, I know, but…"
"Can I accompany you?" Margaery asked, sounding sincere and interested.
"Are you sure you won't grow bored?"
"Absolutely. I think it's wonderful that you're helping the people who need it," she gushed.
"Tyrion is helping them," she clarified, "I just attend the meetings and pass out the gold on behalf of the treasury."
"Say what you will, it's your face, your kindness this family will remember when they have food on their table tonight."
It would be a lie for Daenerys to say, she didn't hope so. She wanted to be seen as someone who did good, someone who helped, untainted by the blood in her veins. Reinforcing Margaery's views, Daenerys had Missandei nodding along in agreement from the corner of her eye. She was outnumbered. "Let us go. I don't want to keep them waiting any longer than I have to."
R-C
Once the meeting concluded, Missandei escorted the young family to the gate, Grey Worm stayed with the Princess and Margaery made up a flimsy justification to take her leave. Daenerys didn't mind. She suspected the Lady from Highgarden was fleeing before Daenerys could inform her of another, equally emotional appointment. Only the stoic Unsullied managed to hold back tears when the downtrodden family told their story.
She was thinking about Arya when she heard a voice she recognized and rotated to face it. Eliza was there, speaking to one of the handmaidens she brought with her from Sunspear. Reaching out she touched Grey Worm's arm and flashed him an apologetic smile before she abruptly changed their course.
After her last conversation with Oberyn, in which he explicitly asked what would become of Eliza, Daenerys had taken time to consider the fate of the innocent woman stuck in the middle of this fight between Dragons. If she wanted to go back to Dorne, then so be it, that was easy enough to accomplish, but what if the Martell had other idea, other aspirations? She thought of her own life and the people in it. Despite his good intentions, did Oberyn really know what Eliza wanted for her future? Had Rhaegar or Viserys truly known what was in Daenerys's heart? No, before she made a ruling that would alter the course of this woman's life, again, she would speak to her and ask what she wanted. She wouldn't assume to know or take the word of others. Daenerys would give Eliza the same courtesy she'd hope for if it were her in the young Princess's place.
They met semi-regularly for wedding planning and although Daenerys was doing what she could to slow the process, Eliza was being pressured from other quarters to speed things up. It put an unfair and heaping amount of stress on the shoulders of a girl who was still growing accustomed to the capital and the keep. Daenerys liked her, felt for her and wanted to help her. "Eliza," she called out as the handmaiden stepped away to do whatever task Eliza assigned her, "you look lovely today. That dress is perfect for you."
A flurry of feelings passed over her attractive face, she was shocked, then embarrassed, anxious and lastly nervous. "Pr... Princess, thank you." Daenerys gave her a moment and she collected herself. "Is there something you needed?"
She shook her head and felt the hair behind her ribbon swaying slightly as she did. "A favor," she explained. "I am thirsty and don't enjoy drinking tea alone, so I was hoping I could persuade you to join me."
Unsure, Eliza looked around for guidance, but no one was there to provide counsel, except Grey Worm and he remained silent. "Is this about the wedding?" she asked. "I know the Hand is upset at the pace of things and I'm trying, I really am…"
Daenerys put a soft hand on Eliza's bare shoulder. "It's not about the wedding, and you are doing great." She didn't envy Eliza if Tywin had taken an interest. "We've both been busy of late and that hasn't left us much time to spend together. We are going to be sisters." She waited and then tried again. "Tea?"
With a nod, Eliza took one last look around the mostly empty corridor. Daenerys didn't know who or what she was searching for, but she relaxed and settled after she finished looking for it. "Of course," she agreed, "that sounds wonderful."
Missandei found them on their way to the sitting room and immediately disappeared again to go and prepare the tea.
"Thank you for this," Eliza said once they were seated. "I apologize if I was rude earlier, it was kind of you to think of me."
Daenerys smiled. "You weren't rude. I shudder to think how stressed I'll be when it's my wedding being planned," she noted. Strangely or perhaps not so strangely when she imagined that far off, future day, it wasn't Loras Tyrell she pictured next to her but Arya Stark. She might've been promised to Loras and they may have agreed to the arrangement they did, but if Daenerys's plan came together right, the only person she'd ever need to pledge her heart to in front of the Gods was Arya. That was precisely how Daenerys wanted it. As if she needed any more motivation to keep going.
Missandei arrived with the tea and politely declined when both women invited her to join them. "Why don't you go and keep Grey Worm company," she suggested with a knowing smile, "he's likely bored guarding the door."
Missandei's smile was blinding and beautiful, "Thank you Princess, I just may do that."
Neither Daenerys nor Eliza spoke until each had sampled their tea. Eliza set her cup down before inquiring. "I don't mean to overstep, but you mentioned your wedding before, and I hear you are to be married as well."
"Yes," Daenerys acknowledged. "I will marry Loras Tyrell, although we are still getting to know one another. There is no rush."
"I saw you too walking together in the yard," Eliza confessed. "He's handsome and he seems to care for you."
Choosing her words carefully, Daenerys replied with, "Loras is a good man and the Tyrells are a generous family." She decided she was never going to get a chance better than this, so she broached the subject she really wanted them to discuss. "Loras is a good man, but I barely know him, let alone love him. I don't know about you, but I don't think we should be forced to marry like this. There are other ways to strengthen relationships between houses and kingdoms, aside from marriage."
Given that Eliza had been paired up with Viserys against her will, Daenerys knew she'd find a likeminded woman in her tea-drinking companion and she wasn't disappointed. She nodded along to all of Daenerys's points and then shared her own. "I agree with you there. I begged and pleaded with Prince Doran to change his mind, but he said it was necessary."
Daenerys bit back a groan of annoyance. "Men always say that, and they're usually wrong."
Eliza laughed, before lifting up her teacup again. As she finished swallowing a thought occurred to her and she was once again nervous and afraid. "Oh, I didn't mean that I'm not excited to join your family. It's an honor…"
Daenerys stopped her by reaching past the tea and touching her arm. "Stop," she directed gently, "you don't need to do that, not with me." She failed to relax, so Daenerys kept going. "When it's just us, you don't have to pretend you want this, you can tell me how you really feel, or what you really think. I give you my word, I'll never repeat anything you say to me in confidence to my brother, my father or anyone else."
It was obvious she was tempted. Apart from the people she brought with her, Eliza didn't have many chances to unburden herself. Few of the options available to her would understand what she was going through as well as Daenerys did. Still, she was reluctant and with good reason. Until the wedding, any mending bonds between the Targaryens and the Martells were fragile and Daenerys guessed that Eliza had been given very strict instructions not to do anything that might upset the potential union before it was finalized. "Thank you," she finally said, but that was all Daenerys got. She didn't take advantage of the new terms of their friendship and voice her complaints or concerns she just watched Daenerys closely while holding her teacup in front of her face.
Undeterred the Princess decided to try another road to the same place. "No more talk of weddings," she ruled abruptly, "mine or yours, agreed?"
Again, Eliza nodded along. "What would you like to discuss?"
"You," Daenerys answered, shocking the Martell. "Did you know that I've always wanted to see the world? The trip we took to Sunspear was the furthest from the capital I've gone so far. It won't be my last journey however, I intend to see many, more distant lands. I even have plans for the ship I'll have built and one day sail on."
The change in subject did Eliza well and slowly she began to settle. "That would be incredible," she agreed, "just think of all the adventures you'd have, all the people you'd meet and the places you'd see."
"Travelling the world has been my dream for a long time. Prince Aemon, he dreams of going North to the Wall and joining the Night's Watch. What about you? What are your dreams?"
"Oh," Eliza said before taking a sip of her mostly gone tea. She was clearly trying to buy herself enough time to think of a suitable reply, but it didn't help. "I don't know. I'm no one special Princess."
"None of this Princess talk, we're to be family, you should call me Daenerys."
"Thank you, Daenerys," she recited a little too formally for the Targaryen's liking.
"And even if you weren't going to marry my brother, even if you and I were never going to be family, I'd still consider you a friend," she added, "and meaningless titles aren't needed among friends."
Unlike her last attempt, that had the desired effect. With a wide smile Eliza set down her cup and nodded in appreciation to the sentiment.
"We all have dreams," Daenerys noted, getting them back to their conversation. "You don't have to tell me but…"
She didn't get to finish. "I wanted to come here," Eliza confessed in a rush. "That is why Prince Doran picked me when they needed someone to marry your brother."
That was odd. "You wanted to come here?" she repeated back, wondering if her ears had failed her.
"I can't explain it, but I always knew from a young age that I wanted to be more than just a wife and a mother. I want a family someday, but I want to be more than that too."
Daenerys was on the edge of her seat, just waiting. Eliza was finally opening up. Daenerys was riveted. There were many things she wanted to say, but Eliza had to finish first. There was no rush and Daenerys had a sneaking suspicion that Eliza didn't confide in many people. Whether Daenerys was the first one she ever told about this particular dream or not, it clearly wasn't common knowledge. She didn't tell many others, choosing instead to keep it bottled up inside, a closely guarded secret. With more than a few of those herself, Daenerys knew how scary it could be to finally expose them, and she wanted to reward Eliza's bravery by giving her all the time she needed to say as much or as little as she wanted.
"I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting both," Eliza continued on. "What's so wrong about wanting more?" she asked rhetorically.
When Daenerys was certain she had finished, she provided some reassurance. "I understand what you mean completely. I want to marry and have children one day too, but not at the expense of everything else. Where does it say that a wife and mother is all a woman can be?"
Daenerys watched Eliza closely and saw undisguised relief. Her whole body sagged as Daenerys agreed with her, leaving Daenerys to think the Dornish girl had been holding her breath and no small amount of tension as she waited to see how her opinions would be received. In a quiet voice but with a very evident smile, Eliza built off Daenerys's last statement. "Exactly. Women can be more, can do more, they just need to be given the chance."
"Definitely," she agreed, believing it completely. "So, what else does Eliza Martell dream of doing? Who does she wish to become?"
"I want to help people, I always have," she said to start. Although speaking quietly, she had a distinct smile on her face. She made a move to pick up her cup, but it was empty, so she stopped herself. Seeing this, Daenerys stood, picked up the pot and refilled each of their cups. "Thank you."
"My pleasure," Daenerys told her. "Wanting to help people is a noble goal. You should be proud."
With that her smile dimmed and some of the excitement in the room faded. She was still happy, happier than Daenerys had ever seen her prior to today, but less childlike and more subdued than she had been just minutes earlier. "I don't know, I've tried to do good where I can, but it's not as easy as it should be."
Yet another thing Daenerys could agree with wholeheartedly. "You're right about that. Helping people shouldn't require negotiations or debates, we should just do it, because it's the right thing, not because there is something in it for us."
Just as she had earlier, Eliza nodded along, silently agreeing with every word the Princess from King's Landing uttered. "There really wasn't room for me in Sunspear," Eliza went on, when it was her turn, "the people are well cared for and older members of my family each have their favorite causes to support, there was little left for me to do."
Daenerys was finally beginning to comprehend how all of this tied together. "And so, you wanted to come here?" Although she phrased it like a question, it wasn't. When Eliza first admitted she wanted to come to the capital, Daenerys couldn't imagine why, but now after a few minutes of listening to her talk, when she wasn't afraid of who was listening and what they might think, it was beginning to make sense.
"There are too many Martells in Sunspear," she justified needlessly, "but not enough in King's Landing. Our people are underrepresented here, so I asked Prince Doran to permit me to come, to see if I could earn a spot in court and help people here who so desperately need it while at the same time improving my homeland also." It was quiet for a moment before she finished, "I dreamt about being here, but never like this."
Daenerys was both saddened and impressed. She admired Eliza's bravery. From personal experience she knew how taxing the journey from Sunspear to the capital could be, and Eliza was willing to leave her home and her family and undertake it, for the betterment of others. Such dedication was to be honored and commended.
"What did Doran say?" she asked in almost a whisper. Truthfully, she didn't want to hear the rest. Daenerys didn't want to hear how powerful men had twisted Eliza's ambitions and dreams into something they could use. How she'd be allowed to go to the capital, but only to marry Daenerys's tyrant of a brother.
"He said he's consider it, and apparently he did, because weeks later I was summoned and informed I would be coming to the capital…"
She didn't need to hear the rest. Damn Doran. She was already inclined to dislike him since he kept Sansa and Arya from communicating but now, she had another reason to add to her list. When she was Queen, she and the leader of Dorne would be having a long talk about the way he manipulated and used his people.
"What do you wish for now?" Daenerys wondered. "If you could go back to Sunspear, would you, or would you rather stay?"
Eliza didn't see the significance of the question and made that known. "I'll be going to Dragonstone after the wedding."
"Pretend you weren't. Pretend my father woke up tomorrow and called off the wedding and gave you the choice to do anything you wanted, be anywhere you wanted, what would you pick?"
She expected it would take some time, for Eliza to choose which road was right for her, but she had the answer on the tip of her tongue. "I'd stay. I could go home, but there are still few ways for me to be of use there, here however, if I had the chance, I think I could do some real good."
"I think you could too," Daenerys commented as her mind raced. After all she'd been through, Eliza was still willing to chase her dream. Daenerys wouldn't have faulted her if she said she wanted to board the fastest ship she could find bound for Sunspear, and never look back, but she remained determined. She wanted to help people, just like Daenerys did. Perhaps she'd found another partner in her quest to reshape the world. If so, she could work with that.
R-C
"I'm worried about her," Arya confessed as she laid next to her lover. "It is great to see her, but it's dangerous here. If anyone recognizes her…"
"They won't."
"How can you…"
"No one recognized you," Daenerys pointed out, "and you look much more 'Stark' than Sansa."
That was true, but Arya remained worried. Sansa was only there because she wanted to check on Arya, because Arya got hurt. That meant that if anything happened to her sister during the visit, the blame would be Arya's to carry. "Still."
A warm arm snaked around Arya's stomach in the dark, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer to the royal she was already cuddling with. "We will keep Sansa safe," Daenerys decreed with confidence, even as her tone was tinged with exhaustion. It had been a long day.
"It's my fault she's here. I brought her here, to a place where there are threats on her life just because of who she is. Add to that the fact that I brought her here as we prepared for a war. If anything happens to her, my Father will never forgive me."
"Do you trust me?"
Arya didn't need to think, she just answered. "With my life."
She was rewarded with a kiss and as their lips met Arya could feel Daenerys smiling against her. "Well then, trust me now. I would never let anything happen to your sister. Together we will keep her safe."
"Together," Arya agreed. She kissed her one last time. "Thank you."
"Of course, my love," Daenerys reassured her, "now close your eyes and dream, morning will be here soon, and someone tired me out."
Arya's eyes closed as she'd been instructed but she couldn't keep the smug grin off her face. She didn't doubt Daenerys knew it was there, even with all the candles out. "I don't remember hearing any complaints."
"And you never will," Daenerys replied indulgently. "Now go to sleep."
"Yes, my Queen."
Suddenly wide awake, Daenerys was up on an elbow looking down at her Northern lover. "What did you call me?"
Arya smirked, unrepentant. "My Queen."
"Don't joke. I'm not Queen yet," Daenerys reminded her.
"I wasn't joking," the soldier assured her, "and not yet but soon."
"You really think…"
"Yes," she answered without knowing how the question would end. "Yes, now go to sleep, someone told me they're tired and morning comes early."
The sound of a soft, laugh filled the room and Arya's heart. The bed moved under her as Daenerys settled and the guard savored the feel of her warm, soft skin against her own. Daenerys would be Queen one day, but Arya was the truly lucky one.
R-C
Her life was a mirage. All the things she did during the day, the meetings she attended for Tyrion, the tours she led, the tea she drank, the stories she listened to, the jokes she laughed at regardless of whether or not they were funny, it was all to make everything appear normal when it was actually anything but.
Those aligned with Daenerys's in her true purpose met in secret, in the late evenings, usually in the Princess's bedchamber. They weren't a large group, little more than a handful really. The only ones Daenerys could trust.
More than once, as they discussed one obstacle or another she felt out of her depth. What was she doing? Daenerys wanted to send everyone away, curl up into a ball on the floor and cry. How pathetic? What made her think she was capable of ruling the Seven Kingdoms when surviving even a small meeting with friends was beyond the talents the Gods gave her? Embarrassed, cheeks burning red, she was seconds away from breaking down when the woman next to her took hold of her hand and squeezed firmly to remind Daenerys she was there. Arya! She squeezed Arya's hand back in a similar fashion as she thought about the woman next to her. Thinking of Arya worked to help Daenerys remember why she'd undertaken such a dangerous and challenging task in the first place.
Things became easier after that, with Daenerys growing more comfortable in her role as leader. Each meeting was a little different, depending on what was being discussed, who was in attendance and how much time they had before one or more of them would be missed.
Daenerys quickly dispensed with any and all types of formality. She valued Missandei's opinions just as highly as Tyrion's, even though she was a foreign slave, and he the youngest son in a prominent family. He served as Master of the Coin while his father was Hand of the King.
Everyone contributed something. When discussing strategy or the likelihood of success for a specific idea, it was usually Oberyn, Arya, and Grey Worm who would appraise the plan with a warrior's eye and test it for weaknesses. When information was needed, the others went out into the keep and city and discovered whatever they could. Each had different methods, but all proved successful.
Varys would use his collection of little birds to gather information from any number of perfectly placed sources. Tyrion's techniques were less refined. What he couldn't learn by making 'innocent' inquires while serving as the Master of the Coins, he uncovered in the taverns and brothels, using his obscene wealth to earn the favor of all those drinking around him. For more intimate or personal information, he'd ask the whores directly, always after they had enjoyed one another's company and after she'd seen the large sum of gold dragons he intended to leave behind. Missandei was the subtlest by far. She sought information from the nameless, faceless men and women, boys and girls who worked around the keep. To do their jobs they were often required to be in close proximity to any number of important people, for varying lengths of time, giving them the chance to see and hear things that might prove valuable to certain parties. They would never share or even sell the information they uncovered to Daenerys or Tyrion, but Missandei was one of them, they liked and trusted her. After Missandei rewarded the first helpful servant with a small sum of gold, word spread and before long every servant in the Red Keep was desperately trying to memorize every detail they could about the people they encountered, just in case any of it was useful to the very generous Missandei of Naath.
By the time Loras, Sansa and the Tyrell troops arrived, Missandei had become one of the best-informed people within the Red Keep's walls.
"What do we have?" Daenerys asked the room. It was how she began all their strategy session now. Her friends – her allies – sat around the large table, most had drinks in front of them. Only Grey Worm stood, and that was his choice not because they lacked space or seats.
"I understand the Tyrell forces are in the Kingswood." Tyrion verified cautiously.
"They are," Daenerys confirmed. She reached for her wine. "Are we spreading the story they have come to train?"
"Yes," Varys assured her. "It began several weeks back, and I bring updates from time to time, but only when the King is busy and is inclined to disregard most of what I say, before he send me away."
Daenerys was no strategist but that sounded ideal. They were making sure the King knew about the 'training' but only in the vaguest of senses. With luck, that would continue and this way, if he ever did order his troops prepare, it would already be too late.
Given his illness, Daenerys and everyone else knew the King's memory was poor and his judgement worse. They could tell him about these training sessions daily and he may remember, but it was just as likely that he'd forget all about it. Fearing that their hard work could be undone by Aerys's unreliable mind, she gave the Spider an order. "Make sure other people are around when you give him the next report."
Varys who had been focused on some papers in front of him looked up. "Princess? Are you sure that's wise? We agreed we'd give him only basic details, if we tell others, they may ask more questions, the sort we can't fully answer."
He had a valid point, but so did she. "I know, but what happens if someone sees the army in the Kingswood and informs the guards, who inform my father. What if in his sickness he forgets all you told him about training? We need to have someone other than you to remind him that he'd been told about this."
"Only Aerys's closest advisors get nearo him, especially if he is not well," Varys told her needlessly. She already knew that. Daenerys hoped he was saying that for Arya, and Missandei and the others who had less experience with the King.
"That's not true," Oberyn said in a calm, but clear voice. He flashed Daenerys a smile before continuing on. "He's never really alone, even when he's in his room, there is a guard or two on the door."
"Could that work?" she tossed out to the debating men.
"Your father does have guards, usually one or both of the Cleganes and Tyrion's brother."
At mention of himself, Tyrion joined in. "What about Jaime?"
"Could we risk telling him about the training in the Kingswood, in case my father forgets?"
"He'll be jealous he wasn't invited," Tyrion guesses.
Daenerys smiled but was too busy to fully appreciate Tyrion's sense of humor. She turned to Varys. "There you go, next time you mention the training, ensure Jaime is close enough to hear. He'll serve as our proof should we need it."
After she thanked the Spider for his help handling her father, Daenerys looked to Tyrion for more. "That lie seems to be holding outside the castle too," he advised. "The brothels and inns around King's Landing are preparing for the large surplus of soldiers these events typically bring in."
Daenerys almost asked how he knew what every brothel owner in the Crownlands was thinking, but she decided it was better not to know. If Tyrion told her it was so, she'd have faith.
"Rumors are all well and fine," Varys began, "but we need everyone from the smallfolk to the throne room to believe it."
"And how do you suggest we arrange that?"
"Loras is here, as part of the preparation for your wedding, is he not?" She said nothing, she just stared at the Spider. She wasn't fond of answering questions when the one asking them already knew the answer. She merely waited for him to arrive at his real point. "Being a Tyrell, and future Prince, it would carry weight if he confirmed that the troops he led here came to train."
She couldn't help it, her eyes flickered to Arya as she listened to the Spider speak and when he referred to Loras as a future Prince, Daenerys saw her lover tense. Anger flared inside her. Varys knew about them, everyone in the room did, he could have made his request about Loras without discussing her potential marriage, he'd done that to punish them. Was it payback for the harsh things she said to him when she confronted him about hiring the bandits? Arya had all but threatened to kill him that day and although they parted on good terms, she should've known, that wouldn't be the end. She wanted to lash out. No one should be making this any harder on Arya than it already was. "I'll speak with him."
"It's important," Varys continued, pressing on a raw nerve. "Rumors enough won't sell it."
"I heard you!" she hissed. "You can discuss it with Loras yourself," she told the Spymaster. "I invited he and Margaery to join us, if they cared to."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Tyrion asked for the group. "Lady Margaery…"
"Is a dear friend and committed to our cause," Daenerys finished for him. "Lady Olenna sent them, along with the men. Margaery will help me with affairs inside the castle, and Loras is to lead the Tyrell forces when the time comes."
Violet eyes swept the room, from face to face. Although her tone left no doubt about her authority, she checked for any descent. She didn't want to have this discussion again. Loras and Margaery were friends. She'd never love Loras and wouldn't marry him unless it absolutely had to be done, but wed or not, he was practically family. Margaery loved Sansa, and Daenerys loved Arya. They shared a bond. One by one all those opposed to Daenerys's idea to include the Tyrell siblings relented. That was good, because she was not seeking anyone's counsel, the decision had been made.
"What about my father?" Daenerys asked no one in particular. "Is he upset about the Tyrells?" She didn't miss the way, Tyrion, Oberyn and Varys all looked at one another without speaking. It aggravated her. "What is it?" she snapped.
"The King hasn't mentioned it yet," Tyrion said.
How could that be possible? Men marching on the capital was one of his deeply engrained fears. Before she could ask, Tyrion went on. "His focus is elsewhere."
"Where?" she wondered, curious about what had her father's attention.
"The voices in his head," Oberyn stated plainly.
And just like that Daenerys understood all too well why the King hadn't noticed the movement of the Tyrells yet. She'd seen him like this many times before and knew the castle could burn down around him and he'd only notice if the events taking place miraculously matched up with the things he was seeing in his head. "So, my father isn't a problem?"
"No," Tyrion agreed, "but my father is, and unfortunately he is all too present."
"Do you think he suspects?"
Shaking his head, Tyrion set her at ease quickly. "No, but I think we'll have to be very careful." Daenerys couldn't disagree with that. Every step was a risk.
"Have we heard about any other houses?" Missandei inquired, skillfully steering them toward a safer ground. The Targaryen flashed her handmaiden a private, thankful smile. Missandei returned the gesture.
"Lady Musgood," Tyrion started, "her armies will be the next to arrive."
"Already?" Missandei double-checked. "They are making good time."
"And bringing more men than we originally estimated," Varys added.
This was good news. Ashara's support was significant. Along with Olenna's, it represented proof that even those with deep, strong ties to the past could side with her in her quest to improve the future. Although she was still annoyed with Varys for his quip about Loras while Arya was listening, she knew he'd have the most to tell. "What do we know?"
The slight delay before he elaborated felt intentional, and it annoyed her. "We were expecting no more than fifteen thousand men from the Stormlands. There is a strong bandit presence in the region and no house, no matter how committed to our cause would be willing to place their home in danger by leaving it underdefended."
Daenerys was nearing her limit. "I remember," she insisted, "so what's changed? What makes you think the Musgoods are suddenly sending more men? If things in Storm's End are as bad as you say, shouldn't we expect less?" By the time she was through, she was glaring at the Spider. Even if he was on her side, he was still a manipulative opportunist. Of all those assembled it wasn't hard to pick out Varys as the man most likely to betray them if the winds changed and it would benefit him somehow. That kept the future Queen on edge around him. Add to that Arya's obvious dislike for the man and it made it difficult for Daenerys to tolerate him, useful or not.
Mercifully, Oberyn joined in and saved her another prolonged exchange with Varys. "I could guess, if I know Ashara, she's likely written home to Starfall and asked for aid. They'll send troops to Storm's End and allow her to commit more to us."
That, if true would be great news. "Is that's what's happening?" she asked Varys.
"It seems so Princess."
Immediately thrilled, reality struck quickly and knocked down any joy she felt. "Can we wait that long? It'll take months for troops to arrive from Dorne."
Reluctantly, she looked to Varys for the information she needed. "It may not come to that Princess. In the Reach for example, the Tyrells pledged to join you along with all of their vassals. That is why Loras commands a force almost three times bigger than what came from Highgarden."
"How does that relate to the Stormlands?" Missandei asked the Spymaster, saving Daenerys the trouble of having to do it.
He smiled kindly at the slave he nearly got killed. "The Musgoods have not only the largest army in the Stormlands they are by far the best trained. Now they to, planned to order vassals loyal to them to provide additional troops, just as House Tyrell did in the Reach, but with your permission Princess I would recommend that House Musgood use the vassals to bolster their garrison freeing up every available Musgood soldier to come to the capital."
Since she was no warrior, she looked to the faces of those who were, checking to see if the Spider's logic held true. Arya, Oberyn and Grey Worm each confirmed the logic was valid.
Satisfied that it made sense, the timeline still worried her. They couldn't hope to deceive everyone in the castle indefinitely. Sooner or later people were going to begin to take notice of the oddities they were currently blind to. "We'll take as many troops as we can get but write to Lady Musgood and ensure that she keeps enough men to secure her home, from bandits and anyone else who might get ideas."
She directed that last part to Tyrion, since he was the one she tasked with handling most of her letters. No one would think it strange if he was up in the rookery a little more than usual. Few understood what was involved in being Master of the Coins. Even if someone questioned him aggressively, Daenerys was confident Tyrion would be able to craft a believable lie.
"If the troops are almost here, it won't make a difference," Tyrion noted. "By the time the Musgoods receive our letter…"
She knew what he was saying and although he was right, Daenerys couldn't let the matter drop. She didn't like the idea of anyone endangering their home for her. She may not be able to stop Ashara from sending more than the initial number of soldiers, but she could ensure that the former Lady Dayne knew that Daenerys appreciated the scarifies she was making and the risks she was taking. Even if the acknowledgement arrived late, Daenerys was determined to ensure that she took none of her allies for granted.
"Send it anyway."
Any complaint Tyrion had on the tip of his tongue, he swallowed it back when a knock at the door interrupted them. Daenerys was halfway out of her seat when Arya pressed a hand down on her shoulder. "I'll get it."
"It's probably Margaery and Loras," Daenerys announced, not only for Arya's benefit but for everyone else's as well.
She was right, it was the Tyrell siblings, but in addition they also brought Sansa. "Sorry we're late, we went with Loras to check on the men," Margaery explained as she walked deeper into the room. Sansa was half a step behind her with Loras bringing up the rear.
"It's no problem," Daenerys assured them. "How are things in the Kingswood?"
It was Loras who provided a reply. "The men are ready and able. When you summon them, they'll be there."
That was exactly what she wanted to hear. She was so focused on the good news, she failed to see the storm brewing right in front of her. "Who is this?" Tyrion asked, looking at Sansa. Although he didn't say anything more than that, he was very clearly filled with questions.
No one responded and so although Tyrion broached the subject, it was Varys kept it going. "We need to be careful, another person who knows…"
Daenerys could only barely contain the urge to groan in frustration. Why were they speaking to her as if she was stupid? She knew how dangerous this was, for all of them, she didn't need Tyrion or Varys to constantly remind her of it. "This is Lady Margaery's handmaiden," Daenerys justified.
"Why is she here?" Varys pressed.
Furious, Daenerys struggled to rein in her temper. Arya looked to be in the throes of a similar struggle, glaring daggers at the big round man. Missandei appeared sad, Margaery furious and Sansa embarrassed. "I meant no disrespect," she said, looking down. "I came because Lady Margaery asked me to accompany her. I can go."
"Absolutely not," Daenerys roared, at the same time as Arya growled and Margaery clung to her lover's side. "If I wanted her to leave, I'd have said so," Daenerys said, her tone vibrating with power. "As I was saying, this is Lady Margaery's handmaiden, and she was in the room when Olenna and I struck our bargain." That wasn't true exactly, but it was an appropriate lie for the time and place. "She already knows everything, so sending her away will be of little use now." She set her eyes on Sansa as she made her final point. "She is also my friend and welcome here for as long as she wants."
In addition to Margaery's attractive smile and polite 'thank you' as she took her seat, Daenerys was struck by the stunning beauty of the Stark sisters. So very different, and each of them uniquely gorgeous. Arya told her Sansa was beautiful and she was right, especially then with her clear eyes shining in gratitude, but as appealing as she might've been, Daenerys only had eyes for Arya. The guard looked at the Targaryen who defended her sister and without words Daenerys knew just how appreciative she was. As she smiled back at the girls in turn Daenerys knew she'd made the right choice. This was her meeting, taking place in her bedchamber, she'd be the one who got to decide who got to come in and who had to leave, not Varys or anyone else. Privately she was pleaded Sansa wanted to participate. Given her unique upbringing, going from noble, to foster, to dressmaker, Daenerys suspected Sansa would prove to be a valuable asset quite quickly as they discussed and debated their various issues. Once that happened, any questions about whether or not she belonged would fall away. Until they did, Daenerys would be prepared to fight Varys or anyone else who thought they knew better than she did in this instance.
R-C
Author's Note: I hope no one found this chapter too boring. I had hoped I'd have action to throw in and break up all the talk, but it didn't work out that way. Everything came together at once. A lot of little things need to happen, to make sure everything is ready for the ending. I also wanted Arya and Daenerys to get a little time together, things haven't been easy for them lately.
Please forgive any mistakes.
Be Well
RC