A Dornish Wolf

by RussellCraig

To punish her father for his role in Robert's Rebellion, Arya Stark is sent to Dorne as a foster. After years as a servant in the Water Gardens she is finally starting to make a life for herself. When the Targaryens arrive for a meeting with Prince Doran will it change Arya's future?

62. Chapter 62

Daenerys was an anxious mess. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and for once Arya and the temptation that she was, was not to blame.

She stayed awake, plagued by this Melisandre character, and her so-called prophecy. Varys would betray her, and she'd need to kill if she intended to hatch her dragons. It was a lot to consider, and she was still weighing her options when the Spider found her.

He requested a moment to speak with her privately and she agreed. As they walked toward her bedchamber, she shared several intense looks with her guard. Each of them wondered what this was about.

To the best of her knowledge, Varys was nowhere near the forest last night, but that didn't mean it was impossible for him to see or hear what had taken place. He had his little birds everywhere so perhaps he already knew what Melisandre had said. Had he come to reassure her, to assess the damage or merely justify his actions?

Although Varys wasn't the fighting type, Arya stayed close. Closer than usual. She walked in line with the Spymaster, close enough to intercede if he had violent ideas.

Once the door was closed behind them, Daenerys took the lead. "Please, take a seat Lord Varys, make yourself comfortable."

"I'm afraid I can not," he told her.

Anticipating trouble, Arya moved away from the door and closer to their guest. "And why is that?" Daenerys asked, trying to hide her unease.

"I have many meetings and other appointments today Princess, and as much as I'd enjoy forgoing those responsibilities in favor of spending the hours with you, I must decline and do my part to ensure nothing appears amiss to your father and his Hand."

She listened closely, watching his limited facial expressions for any hint of a lie. She saw none. He was either sincere or very talented. "As you wish," the Princess conceded, "what would you like to discuss? Surely whatever this is could wait until we all gathered for our next meeting."

Quirking an eyebrow slightly, Varys appeared almost confused for a fraction of a moment before it was gone. Had Daenerys not been staring so openly she might've missed it. "It could Princess, and if you prefer, that's how it will be, but I was under the impression you might not want the others to know of this."

Daenerys had had her fill with cryptic nonsense and half-truths. First Melisandre, now Varys. "That depends almost completely on the information you bring."

"You asked that I send word to Dragonstone," he reminded her.

"I did," she confirmed, "what of it?"

"I received word this morning that a ship has left the island with your brother aboard. He is sailing toward the capital as we speak."

She nodded to show she understood. "Thank you, Varys. That will make things much easier."

"The time has almost come Princess, are you ready?"

She thought about ignoring his question outright but decided against it. Every interaction she had with Varys going forward would be an opportunity for her to learn a little more about him and his motives. If handled with care, she might discover once and for all if Melisandre had been right about him. "Are you?"

"Me, Princess? I am but a humble servant…"

She was not in the mood to listen to his false modesty shit. She shook her head and waved a hand for good measure. "None of that. This would not be happening without you. Is it happening as you intended, as you imagined it would?"

"It's gone well, better than I'd feared certainly. Your lack of experience aside, you were clearly born for this, to rule and lead men, to command them and earn their respect. The army massed in the forest is willing to fight for you after only an exchange of letters, that is quite an accomplishment."

"That is very kind of you to say. I hope I am doing well, proving worthy of the men and women who were willing to take a chance on me, people like you."

The more she stroked his ego, the more he relaxed. "You are exceeding my expectations," he confessed plainly, "I did not think you'd be able to arrange so many allies and so quickly. Were it me in your shoes I would not have dared to reach out to several of the houses you swayed over to your side." He gave a laugh that didn't sound at all forced. "That I suppose is why you are going to be Queen and I, the Master of Whispers."

She continued staring at him, giving nothing away. Years in the Red Keep had taught her that silence could be wielded as a weapon. Even the most learned and practiced of them could grow uncomfortable with prolonged quiet. When that happened, if it happened, it had a tendency to provoke speaking more than originally planned, just to fill the space. She wasn't sure if it would work on a man like Varys, he was gifted at manipulations and might see through her attempt, but she would find out. She needed him off balance, needed to see what tumbled out when he wasn't so sure and steady.

Seconds passed slowly and Daenerys waited. "Is everything alright Princess?" he asked, sneaking a glance at Arya as if to double-check.

She didn't nod, she didn't follow his eyes with her own, she just stared straight ahead, right at the Spider. He was in her web now and he'd remain there until she was satisfied.

Two minutes into her experiment Varys was ready to leave. "Well, I have already delayed my business too long, so I will take my leave now and let you continue with your affairs. Good day, Princess." He paused and looked to the guard, "Arya."

Daenerys waited until he had turned away, unable to see her, and then she gestured to Arya as subtly as she could. She shook her head and used her chin to point to the door. Arya understood perfectly. She got to the exit before Varys and blocked his path. "What's this now? I have meetings."

When he looked as though he was going to reach past Arya and grab the knob, she scared him off by putting her hand on her sword. Sensing Arya would be less than receptive to his plight, he rotated and aimed his upset at the royal. "What is this?!" he demanded to know. "Why can I not leave?"

Daenerys was back to her silent, staring by the time he'd returned his focus to her. To him it would appear as if nothing had changed. The tension in the room increased with every second. "What is the meaning of this. We are allies Princess, friends. This is not the way you treat a friend." As he spoke his eyes searched the room for another escape.

"My ally," she repeated, "my friend, hmm. Is their anything you need to tell me, friend?"

This was another strategy she picked up during her childhood. In her youth she was fairly well behaved, but occasionally she did get into trouble, usually with Aemon. When that happened, they quickly found themselves sitting next to one another on a long bench seat, while Rhaegar stared at them from his favorite chair. Rather than telling them what he'd been told or by whom, he'd encourage them to confess. He used open-ended questions like the one she presented to Varys to get them to reveal their secrets. They'd deny it at first, but before long she and Aemon would always admit their guilt and accept responsibility. When they did Rhaegar would reprimand them for their mistakes and then praise their honesty. Unfortunately, that was a long time ago, and Varys was no naive child. He wouldn't be compelled to share so easily.

"I don't know what you mean," he tried, sounding relieved she was finally speaking again.

"Really," she pressed, "you can't think of anything you may have forgotten to discuss with me? Something I perhaps should know?" She was reaching now, but despite that, she felt confident. Was this what it was like for Rhaegar when he interrogated his son and sister for their reckless destruction of a centuries-old vase? It broke while Daenerys was chasing after Aemon, determined to get revenge for the heinous crime of messing up her hair. She had been about seven, perhaps eight years old and as he tried to flee by sliding into a narrow passage between the wall and a decorative table, Daenerys thought she was clever, choosing to go around rather than following after him. She'd let him squeeze through the gap and be waiting when he came out the other side. He would be trapped. She was right, at least in theory. Despite being able to prevent his escape, she failed to account for her youthful lack of coordination. In her haste she knocked the table with her hip. Between that and the frequent bumps Aemon was delivering on the opposite side as he tried to wiggle through, the vase fell, shattering into countless pieces. They swore to take the secret to their graves, and yet five minutes of prolonged silence and a few not so innocent questions made it clear there was no secret to protect. Rhaegar already knew. When he asked who had done it, both she and Aemon tried to take the blame, insisting the other wasn't at fault. In the end, they were both punished. She'd pouted for days afterward, embarrassed and disappointed in herself, but all of that would be worthwhile now if she could put those tactics to use.

"I know many things, Princess, it is a requirement of my position. Not all I share with you, because not all are relevant."

"I'd say anything directly related to our shared plan for the future of this Realm is very relevant," she disagreed firmly.

Daenerys had to resist the urge to grin. It was working. She could practically see Varys's mind turning, trying to figure out which secret she uncovered and how he'd get himself out of this predicament. The long delay told the Princess plenty. Most importantly, if he hadn't confessed yet, he had a lot more to atone for than a broken vase. She already limited the range of his thinking to their plot to replace Aerys and still he couldn't decide what to expose. Obviously, there was more than one thing the Spider was keeping from her. If that were true, it could lead a reasonable person to conclude that Melisandre might have done her a kindness when she provided that warning.

"Well?" she barked, hoping to increase the pressure. "Nothing to say for yourself?" She waited less than three seconds, time Varys spent studying her like a riddle to be solved. He provided no defence, so Daenerys pushed him further. "Very well then. Arya," she called, summoning the foster forward, "as we discussed please."

His feet shuffled as he backed away from Arya's approach, inadvertently putting him closer to the Princess. "What is this!?" he asked again, louder this time. "I have done nothing. I don't know what you want?! You can't do this to me. I am…"

"Nothing?" she checked as Arya stalked closer. They hadn't spoken about it, and Daenerys was making it up as she went along, but you'd never know that by Arya's behavior alone. She was doing a masterful job of making it seem as if they had an arrangement. Any other person would've questioned Daenerys's thinking, or accused her of madness, but not Arya. Daenerys knew Arya supported her, up to and including drawing Varys's blood. She would keep going until the Princess told her to stop.

Arya was within reach when he broke and confessed. "W….wait… wait… I'll tell you."

"Tell me what?"

Varys was too busy looking at the soldier and her sword to respond. "Answer her," Arya demanded, "and choose your words carefully, I have no patience for the games you play."

With that his eyes flashed back to Daenerys, and he gave her a moment to defend him, to rein in her unruly Wolf. She didn't make use of it. She just stood there, waiting to hear what he'd say. Would he confess that Melisandre was right, and he was taking steps to find another leader, or would it be something else he revealed?

"I meant no disrespect Princess," he told her, working to salvage their conversation, "I merely kept it to myself because I know how busy you are. I didn't want to add to your burden needlessly."

"I appreciate that," she told him almost sweetly, "but since I already know most of it, why don't you tell me anyway."

Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly. When he opened them again Varys showed signs of genuine fear for the first time. One shaking breath later, he dove headfirst into an excuse. "He just asked to be informed. He has wanted change in the Realm for a very long time. He travelled a great distance and committed a vast sum of gold to seeing it done. He asked me to send him reports about the status of things, that's all." He was done and then he thought of something else that might improve his standing, "I did it for you, to keep him happy, because whether you realize it yet or not, having the Magister as an ally is a major victory."

Pentos?! She thought of the fat Magister who brought slaves to her home to celebrate her nameday. He was the only Magister they both knew, the only one Varys might be writing to. This was a surprise to her, of course, even if she had to pretend otherwise. She would have the time and privacy to think about this development later. For now, she needed to smooth the waters between her and Varys. "That's good thinking," she said, hoping to sooth any raw nerves with compliments. "Illyrio is a powerful man and a strong ally to have with us, but I am not fond of secrets Varys, do you understand?"

"Of course, Princess, I meant no disrespect…"

She held up her hand to silence him. "I believe you," she lied. As she spoke, Melisandre's words echoed in her ears. This man was going to betray her. He'd wait until she had the throne and the power that came with it, but once she did, he'd have her killed, or exiled or arrested or some strange combination of the lot. Oddly, if the priestess had named Missandei or Tyrion as the betrayer, Daenerys would have dismissed the idea outright and discounted her claims, but Varys was different. Varys had nearly gotten Missandei killed to test Daenerys's leadership capabilities. It didn't stretch logic to believe that someday when the Realm had peace and was prosperous, he'd want to replace her with someone more malleable – a puppet with strings for Varys to pull. She wouldn't allow that to happen. She was tempted to end the threat at once, to have Arya swing that sword Daenerys gave her, separating Varys's head from his fat neck, but a whispering voice in the back of her mind advised caution. Whether or not he was trustworthy, Varys still had some value. She needed to think more like the Spider and less like the fire-breathing Dragon. She heeded the wise counsel, even if it came from within her own head. She'd bide her time, and until the ideal moment arrived, she'd milk the Spymaster as completely as she could, getting every drop out of him before she rid herself of him forever.

While she was busy scheming, Varys was doing the same. His voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Princess, since we're on the subject, Illyrio did extend an offer in his most recent letter, he is willing to provide anything you need to succeed, be it coin, men, ships, supplies or something else."

Was he trying to purchase her forgiveness? She doubted very much that Illyrio's last letter had any such offer, but she could appreciate why Varys thought saying so might appease her. Should she ask for something, just to see if he'd provide it? Talk of gold reminded her that Illyrio had already been generous. He donated an uncounted amount of gold to their cause and left it under the Spider's care. That needed to change. A plan quickly took shape as she plotted out her next steps. "That won't be necessary, but please send my gratitude to Pentos. Should a need arise, I will have you reach out to Illyrio on my behalf, but I am not greedy and do not wish to appear so, Illyrio has already been very generous."

Varys laughed at that and if she hadn't been present for his earlier distress, Daenerys would have thought he didn't have a care in the world. He really was good. "You needn't worry about that, Princess," he assured her. "The Magister has more money than he could ever spend. Helping you take the throne is a worthy pursuit and one he is fully committed to."

It had never been explicitly said, but Daenerys was confident she knew why Illyrio was investing in her. This man brought priceless dragon eggs to the daughter of his last trading partner and got a successful deal in return. She could only assume that he would seek a bigger, better bargain once that same daughter took her father's place on the throne. He'd undoubtedly try to capitalize on the fact that he played a part in her victory and anticipate being rewarded. It all made perfect sense.

"Be that as it may," Daenerys began, "we require nothing further for the time being. That said, I do have something else I need from you."

"Anything," he swore.

"The rest of the money Illyrio sent. I have need of it."

This had Varys's attention. He stood up a little straighter but didn't refuse her. He didn't ask why, or propose a counteroffer, he just smiled and said, "As you wish, where am I to send it?"

"To Tyrion," Daenerys replied. Had she not been working so hard to bury her emotions deep, she would've laughed as his eyes bulged and his jaw fell open.

"Tyrion Lannister?" he verified.

"One and the same. Keeping our wealth separated makes little sense. I want the gold to be consolidated with what is already in the treasury. I've already spoken to Tyrion about it, and he knows what to do. All that is required of you is to have one of your little birds deliver it to his office."

He nodded along like he was going to agree but Daenerys wasn't stupid, she knew it wouldn't be that simple. Varys hadn't survived in the capital as long as he had by freely giving away his advantages. What Daenerys had just described was an adjustment that would cut Varys out of all her financial matters. By being the banker for Illyrio's gold, he was in a unique position that afforded him a certain level of discreet power. If Daenerys wanted to use Illyrio's money, regardless of whether her reasons were selfish or pure, she'd need to go to Varys to make the arrangements. This gave him not only knowledge about how she was spending the coin, but also a chance to change her mind, if Varys didn't approve of the potential expense. If he did as she asked and ceded control to Tyrion, he'd have no more say in how Daenerys spent her wealth than Grey Worm or Missandei. Truthfully, he'd probably have less.

"Are you sure that's for the best Princess?" he asked, framing it like a question when it was really a rebuke. "Adding your gold to the treasury now would strengthen Aerys's hold on the Realm not ours, and should we be discovered that gold could be useful…"

She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "If we're discovered, no amount of money will save us, not me, not Arya, Tyrion or you."

He recovered quickly, though her words did shake him. "You're probably right about that," he acknowledged.

"By the end of the day Varys," she said in a formal tone. "Tyrion is expecting you."

When it looked like he was preparing his next flurry of opposition, Daenerys cut him off at the knees. "Oh dear, you said you had appointments and here I am, turning a brief meeting among friends into an hour-long interrogation. Please forgive me," she gushed, trying to sound contrite.

His mouth was open to speak, and then it closed, as the Spider resigned himself. Daenerys had a hunch that he knew he'd just been played and if that was true, then he'd be even more dangerous in the days to come. They needed to act quickly, before Varys or anyone else could ruin everything.

She walked with him to the door. She was on one side and Arya the other. No one spoke until they were almost there. "I appreciate your honesty Varys," she told him. "It took a lot of courage for you to tell me about your letters to Pentos and the fact that you did only confirms for me that I was right to put my trust in you."

"You are wise beyond your years Princess."

"And you are a valuable ally and friend," she exaggerated, playing off his insincere compliment with one of her own. "That said, I do not want to have a conversation like this again. If you uncover something that is related to what we are doing or involves me or the people I care about in any way, I expect to be informed at once."

Arya opened the door and Varys passed through. "Of course, Princess. It was an error in judgement that will not happen again. I thought I was doing you a favor, but it was unnecessary. You are ready for what is coming." He bowed his head. "Please forgive my error. I was only trying to help."

"Then it's settled," she declared with a smile. "I apologize for taking so much of your time but am grateful to know I can rely on you. I will need your support going forward."

"And you shall have it. Good day, Princess."

Back in her bedchamber when it was just her and Arya, the guard asked, "What now?"

Daenerys shrugged. "I'll wait here, you go tell Tyrion he has a shipment of gold coming."

R-C

It was a rare lazy day. Daenerys decided to spend it with the people closest to her. She didn't get too many chances to experience simple things like this, she wasn't going to squander it. There was always something happening, some task that needed to be done, someone that needed to meet, a conversations that was long overdue. Not today.

She had no meetings to attend, and no strategy sessions to conduct. The truth was they were simply waiting now. Her army was ready. Every house that committed and sent troops was accounted for. The bulk were in the forest. The few thousand men sent by the Freys were hiding at strategic positions along the main road and of course the Greyjoy ships were prepared to block the port. For the time being, Daenerys was ordering them to keep the routes into the city clear, be them sea or land. She needed Viserys's ship from Dragonstone to arrive before she closed the bay. On the roads, a blockade that began too early would only invite action against them, so she had Loras impress upon the Frey Commanders the importance of patience. They weren't happy about it, but they were obeying, for now.

Beyond that, there wasn't much taking place. Arya and Daenerys had both been spending a lot of their time with Aemon. Arya did so with a sword in her hand, Daenerys a cup. Both knew it was unlikely Aemon would remain in the capital once he was permitted to go and Princess and foster alike each wanted to make a few more memories with him before that happened.

Things with Varys were tense. He was on his best behavior, working to show Daenerys he could be trusted, but she was rapidly reaching the conclusion that she just didn't. Varys was one of the most influential men in all of Westeros. He commanded a legion of people who collected secrets for him, and with that knowledge came true power. Why didn't such a powerful man at least attempt to put an end to Aerys's tyranny? It went way beyond Arya's family. Yes, she hated him for not stopping that, but how many other families were shattered like the Starks? How many were killed outright and erased from history all together? Too many for Daenerys to forgive. It wasn't just the Spider either, she'd need almost a whole new Small Council when she was Queen.

The gold Illyrio gave Varys had been hidden within the treasury, in a location known only to Tyrion. At Daenerys's instruction the funds were being kept separate from the Realm's wealth, at least for the time being. Hidden down the front of her dress, Daenerys kept a growing list, of all the people she owed and how much she felt was fair. She added to it almost constantly. She was quickly discovering that being in charge was expensive.

All those details could wait, however. She pushed them to the back of her mind. She was enjoying tea with Missandei, Aemon, Loras, Arya, Sansa and Margaery. She probably should have been considering her plan, weighing one aspect over another or calculating next steps, but she was simply unable, too captivated by the story Sansa was telling. Since Aemon and Loras didn't know Arya was Sansa's sister, she didn't mention her by name, calling her only 'my sister' as she depicted the actions of a young Arya Stark. For her part, Arya couldn't defend herself without exposing her identity, a fact Sansa undoubtedly knew before they began. With few options, Arya settled for grumbling quietly to herself while the others laughed. Sensing she needed something else to think about, Daenerys leaned over and put her mouth near her lover's ear. "You were adorable," she said before she took a playful bite out of her earlobe.

"I was a terror," she corrected, whispering back.

Margaery, who was all too happy to instigate a disagreement or two if it was necessary to hear a good story, decided to prod Arya. "What about you Arya?" she teased the soldier, "you had siblings did you not? Tell us about growing up in Dorne."

Daenerys tried to straighten, not wanting to interfere in the telling, but before she could get too far, Arya seized her hand and pulled it into her lap. Daenerys gave up her limb gladly. Taking advantage of the opening available, Aemon provided another option. "Or you could tell us about your adventures outside of Dorne?" he proposed.

"I have stories from all over the Seven Kingdoms and beyond," Arya promised. Daenerys didn't miss the heavy look that passed between the Tyrells and the Starks. Loras knew who Sansa was, and while they watched, was beginning to put the pieces together that would connect her to the Princess's favorite guard. A few more thinly veiled comments and some stories about their shared past and he'd understand the connection that was currently unspoken.

"Tell us some," Margaery pushed. "I bet you and your sister got along splendidly, didn't you?"

"Hardly, but sometimes hardships make for the best stories." Sansa scoffed and grabbed her lover's arm, pulling her down so they could whisper together. When they came apart, Margaery looked remarkably unrepentant.

"Once, when I was a girl, my sister and I disagreed about the state of our room. We shared a bedchamber you see, and we very distinctly drew a line down the center. There was her half and mine, but unfortunately for the both of us, exceptions to the rule needed to be made."

"Like what?" Margaery asked eagerly. She was visibly excited. Daenerys could relate. She'd thrived on the previous story detailing Arya's past, and she guessed it was the same for Margaery, who was getting to learn more about Sansa from a uniquely informed source.

"Well, my side had the window, and hers had the closet. I kept as many of my clothes as I could piled on my side, but a few needed to be hung and when I wore those things, I'd have to cross the border to get them."

Instead of quietly grumbling as Arya had done for Sansa's tale, the dressmaker decided to take a more offensive approach. "What sort of things would you need to hang up?" she asked, likely already aware of the answer.

Arya's glare took Daenerys's breath away. "That's not important for the sake of the story," she tried.

"I'd like to know," Margaery contributed.

"Me too," Aemon added as they came together against Arya.

Suddenly all eyes were on her and Missandei, neither of whom had committed. They pressed the handmaiden first. "I'm curious," she admitted, "but if she says it's not important, then I believe her."

"It is important, and if she doesn't want to tell us, it's got to be good," Margaery rationalized.

With a huff, Arya looked to her right, at Daenerys. The Princess was looking back at her. Their eyes met and Arya saw enough. She sighed. "You too?" she complained, releasing Daenerys in the process. "Fine," she said, throwing up her recently emptied hand, "it was dresses okay!? My mother insisted I hang the dresses in the closet so they wouldn't wrinkle, and I did, and that meant every time I was forced to wear one, I'd have to venture into my sister's half of the bedroom."

"How often was it?" Loras asked, reminding them he was there. He'd been so quiet during the exchange that Daenerys had forgotten him.

"Everyday," Arya mumbled under her breath.

Aemon needed to have his ears verified. "Wait, you wore dresses!?" he asked, already laughing.

"I was a girl, of course I wore dresses," Arya said in her defense. "My mother assumed if I looked like one on the outside, I'd eventually turn into a Lady on the inside as well."

Aemon chuckled. "That didn't happen."

Arya and Sansa wore matching heavy, sad expressions as talk settled on Catelyn Stark unknowingly. "No, it didn't, but you can't blame her for trying, what else was she supposed to do? She was trying her best."

Sensing that Arya was becoming frustrated, Daenerys put a hand on the back of her neck and gently began rubbing soft circles with the pads of her fingers. Response to her touch was immediate and Arya leaned back, while Daenerys's touch lifted off her neck and up into her hair.

Just as suddenly as the topic shifted to Arya, they moved on. The next victim was Loras, who Sansa was now plying for secrets about his sister. Turnabout was fair play and Margaery had it coming. Daenerys smiled, resting her head on Arya's shoulder. This was good. Very good.

R-C

It was midafternoon and not much had changed. They may have been drinking a little faster – moving from tea to wine – and laughing a little louder, but the calm and peace remained. Aemon retired to the yard to train after going downstairs for lunch and was replaced by Grey Worm who Missandei coaxed into joining them for the afternoon.

It was going well, too well. That should've been her first clue, it couldn't last. Instinctively she should have sensed that trouble on the horizon. She wasn't lucky by any measure and the good things in her life rarely lasted, so she probably should have anticipated the knock at the door before it came.

She was sitting there, in the midst of listening to the Stark women discuss their cousin. "Are you going to tell him who you are, who our father is?" Sansa inquired. Loras leaned forward in his chair, soaking up every word. It was just minutes earlier he'd had Arya's identity confirmed and he was still coming to terms with how monumental an admission it was.

Arya answered without looking away from the wine she was pouring. "I have to," she decided, unsettling Daenerys with her certainty. "He wants to go to the Wall, if he does, he's going to be tripping over Starks. He needs to know who they are, who he is, before he gets there."

Not only did she agree, but Daenerys also thought Arya's choice was extremely brave. It wouldn't be easy to look Aemon in the eye and tell him they'd been lying to him, to confess not only her identity but why it mattered. She was proud of Arya for being willing to shoulder that weight.

"You can tell him about me too," Sansa announced after some thought. Margaery's smile for her lover in that moment was beaming and it made Daenerys grin too. They really were a fine match.

Daenerys was still basking in the sweetness of her life when the knock came. She looked from face to face. Had they invited someone who wasn't already there? She didn't think so, but perhaps it was Tyrion or maybe Aemon was returning to try and lure Arya out into the yard to spar with him. Neither of them typically knocked, but she couldn't think of anyone else who would be looking for her in the middle of an uneventful day.

Missandei hopped up, releasing Grey Worm's hand as she did. "I'll get it," she called out to the entire room.

Arya despite being slower, stood too and waved the handmaiden away. "Sit," she instructed, smirking at Missandei, "I'll get it, we don't want Grey Worm to get lonely."

Missandei hesitated, looking to the Princess for guidance. With a warm smile, Daenerys shrugged, nodding her approval, effectively telling Missandei there was no harm in letting Arya answer the door. While the women in Daenerys's service debated who would get to do the work, the person in the hall grew impatient, knocking again, reminding them of the urgency.

The room which had been filled with conversation since they met up that morning was suddenly silent. No one spoke as they waited to see who had come and why. Missandei quietly lowered herself back into the chair between Grey Worm and Loras.

The room was large enough that from where she was sitting Daenerys could not see who was there, nor could she hear more than the occasional muffled word. Unfortunately, she'd just need to wait for Arya's return, like everyone else.

About the time Arya closed the door, Daenerys was at her wits end. She stood up, smoothed out her red dress and approached her lover. "Is everything alright?" she wondered casually, honestly not expecting a negative response.

Arya turned toward her voice and when their eyes met Daenerys was immediately wary. Instead of the happy, smiling, relaxed Arya she'd been spending the day with, the woman staring back at her had an expression that could only be described as haunted. Daenerys knew of only one man who could inspire such a reaction in her woman. "That was one of the servants," she explained, "your father wishes to see us; you, me, Missandei and Grey Worm are needed in the throne room."

"Why?" she asked, despite knowing that there was little to no chance that Arya actually had that information.

"I don't know," she admitted freely, "but that boy was scared. Whatever is happening downstairs, it isn't good."

Daenerys was dizzy, the lunch she ate and the wine she drank threatened to make an appearance. She laid a hand on her stomach to try and hold back the sickness. "He asked for Grey Worm too?" she checked. Her father rarely remembered the Unsullied and generally didn't require their inclusion in any matters of court business. If he was summoning Grey Worm specifically, there had to be a reason. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Arya promised, "he asked for my help finding the slaves," she recounted quietly, clearly trying to keep her voice from reaching the couple in question. "I asked which ones, and he said, 'the Princess's handmaiden and the leader of the eunuchs.'"

This just kept getting worse. "Do you think Varys betrayed us?" she asked, giving voice to one of her darkest concerns. Melisandre said he would and although she predicted it wouldn't happen until later, things change. It had only been a handful of days since she and Arya had all but held him captive and forced him to answer her questions. Had she misjudged him? Was he angry enough to seek retribution? Would he use her father to achieve it?

"I don't know," Arya said, taking the hand that wasn't against her stomach and holding it tight. "I don't think so. He knows you are the only one capable of replacing the King. He may not like us right now, but he's not stupid, we're still useful to him."

That sounded logical, and Daenerys wanted desperately to accept Arya's words as fact, but if it wasn't Varys, then why would her father be calling for them? Why now? Had someone else revealed their plan? Fear shook her from head to toe and she wobbled. She would have fallen if not for Arya keeping her upright.

Daenerys's eyes closed and when they opened Missandei was there. "Is something the matter?" she asked, looking between Daenerys and Arya, unsure of who would provide the reply.

"Can you get Daenerys a glass of water please Missandei? We're needed in the throne room."

Instantly, the woman from Naath understood the significance. She looked to Daenerys with concern and then back to Arya for confirmation. After the guard nodded, Missandei did too, stepping away to fetch the requested water. "What are we going to do?"

"Whatever you want," she offered. "I can tell the King you're ill, if you wish it, or I can say you're busy, we'll do whatever you want."

Regardless of the situation, she appreciated Arya letting her decide. Giving her a choice seemed like such a small thing, but the truth was, before Arya, Daenerys rarely got to decide anything beyond what to wear. It was a sharp contrast, thinking about how her life had been before that fateful trip to Sunspear, compared to how it was after. She felt like an entirely different person.

Lost in thought, she felt herself being moved. Arya guided her to a chair and sat her down and as she stepped away, Missandei took her place, holding out the cup of water for Daenerys to take.

The conversation happening around her sounded very far away. She was vaguely aware of Arya explaining who was at the door and who was expected downstairs. As she listened Daenerys tried to raise the water to her lips, but her hand shook violently and the water spilled onto her lap, prompting Missandei to go in search of a cloth.

"Is Daenerys okay?" Margaery inquired gently.

"She will be, she just needs a moment."

"The King will not appreciate being made to wait," Grey Worm stated accurately.

Arya remained defiant. "He doesn't have a choice."

"Do you think he knows?" Sansa asked her sister.

Daenerys looked up from where Missandei was drying her dress, to watch Arya's face as she responded. "It's possible," she acknowledged, saying out loud what was repeating incessantly inside Daenerys's mind. He knew. He had to. Why else would he summon all of them? It occurred to her rather abruptly that that was incorrect, he wasn't sending for all of them. Why only the four? Did that mean he didn't know about Loras and Margaery, about the army in the Kingswood and all the allies she made? If he knew about the allies, he'd know about the Tyrells and if he knew about the Tyrells, he wouldn't be tolerant to Margaery and Loras, yet he hadn't ordered they accompany the Princess to the throne room. What could that mean?

While she fretted, she arrived at a conversation in the middle. "You don't have to go," Sansa was saying, clinging to Arya's arm, begging her to stay.

The soldier smiled sadly at her sister, a sight that tore at Daenerys's already damaged heart. "You know I do." Before Sansa could plead any further, Arya looked to Loras. "I need you to get them out of here. Take them to the camp in the forest, they'll be safe there."

"What if the King knows about the army already?" Margaery wondered for the group.

Arya didn't hesitate. "Then you ride for Highgarden as fast as you can. You'll be safe there."

"What about you?" Sansa asked, her voice breaking as she fought a sob. She didn't let Arya answer. "You could come with us," she proposed.

Arya replied with another sad smile. "I can't."

Sansa didn't want to hear it. "Yes, you can. Fuck this place. Fuck it. We should leave! All of us."

Arya stepped past her sister and put a hand on Loras's shoulder. "Don't trust anyone until you're safely back in the Reach."

Daenerys was too shocked, too scared to participate. Simply listening and continuing to breathe was taking everything she had. Sansa had no such limitation. She balled up her hand and struck Arya in the back, hitting her armor in a blow certain to hurt the dressmaker more than the soldier. "We're not doing that!" she screamed. "I'm not leaving you again."

Having finished with Loras, Arya turned herself and met her sister's unforgiving stare. "It might not be what we think," she said, very clearly trying to reassure the elder, "but if it is, I don't want you anywhere near him."

Daenerys's stomach rolled again. She didn't have to wonder who the 'him' was, she knew and so did everyone. That was her family, her blood, her father that everyone was so frightened of. What made a bad situation worse was that they were right to be scared. He'd earned his reputation, vile as it was.

"If it's not what you think it is, then there is no reason I can't be there," Sansa objected. "I'm not leaving you again."

The longer the exchange went on, the more it seemed to strain Arya. Daenerys watched, a mute observer as her lover's composure began to melt away. "I can't put you in danger, Father would never…"

"Father isn't here!" Sansa snapped loudly. "He's not and I'm not a child."

Arya took her hand. "You're not," she agreed, looking down at their laced fingers. "but you are my sister and I love you."

Her admission was enough to erase in one stroke all of Sansa's pent-up frustrations. She looked utterly stunned as she stared at her grey-eyed sister. "I…. I love you too," she stammered, sounding like a completely different woman from the one who was irate.

Arya smiled. "I always regretted not telling you that the last time we were here. We were fighting that day and I was angry, but I still should have said it."

With teary eyes Sansa bowed her head and gave it a shake. "Arya we were children. I never blamed you, there is nothing to forgive."

To Daenerys it appeared Arya was combating her emotions and losing. She looked to be on the verge of breaking down. Sansa already had tears decorating her cheeks.

"Please, I know I have no right to ask you for anything, but I'm begging you, leave. If this is the end, I need to know you're safe."

Hearing Arya so defeated snapped something in her. From the moment Arya told her who was at the door, she'd felt like a witness and not a participant. Her body didn't feel like her own and everything happening around her seemed foreign. That all changed as she listened to Arya plead with Sansa. After feeling empty, she was suddenly full, full of anger and outrage. Hadn't her father done enough to these people? Hadn't he already hurt them enough for a thousand lifetimes? Here he was, without even knowing who they were, adding to their torment. It needed to end and if Rhaegar wasn't willing to stop it, and Viserys was too greedy and selfish, then she would do what was necessary. With a surge of energy, she jumped to her feet. She looked at the water she was holding and had to think to recall why she had it and where it came from. She set it down on a nearby table, no longer feeling thirsty. Her anger was all there was.

She gave Missandei a thankful smile as she moved around her and toward the Starks. She touched Arya's arm, surprising her. Grey eyes met violet, and she asked without words what Daenerys wanted. What she wanted in that instant was to give Arya a freedom she had been denied for too long. "You can go with them if you want. You've done enough, if there is even a chance Varys betrayed us, I don't want you there either."

Arya was momentarily offended and then furious. She straightened up. "I'm not leaving you!" she declared boldly. "Together, remember."

Sansa tried to capitalize on what Daenerys was suggesting. "Arya, are you sure, because we could…"

She didn't get to finish. "This is where I belong," she told everyone. "This is the war I have dreamt of fighting. A year of training, and every time I swung a sword or thrust a spear, I saw his face, or the Mountain's or Payne's. I can't walk away, I won't."

Daenerys heard an unwavering confidence in Arya's tone and judging by the way she relented, Sansa did too. "I can come too," she offered, looking to Margaery for confirmation.

"I want you to leave the castle," Arya started, practically begging now. "The minute we're finished, I'll come and get you, I swear it, but please, I need to know you're safe."

"How can I leave you again?" Sansa asked, sounding as though she was genuinely looking for guidance. Daenerys understood. Leaving Arya had always been a struggle for her as well.

She ignored the question, likely because she didn't have a suitable answer. "If anything happens to me, I want you to go to the Wall. Go North, see Father, see Bran, hug them, cry with them, laugh with them and tell them that I never forgot them, not one single day."

Sansa was losing control. Margaery was the only thing keeping her on her feet and the tears were falling faster and faster as she tried to will Arya to heed her advice. Daenerys knew from experience it wouldn't work. Arya took stubbornness to an artform.

Having said all she needed to, Arya looked past her crying sister to the knight. "Get them the fuck out of this castle as quickly as you can."

"Arya," Sansa cried, in the throes of a fresh bout of tears.

Although it looked physically painful for her, Arya ignored Sansa and addressed the woman holding her. "I'm glad I got to meet you m'lady," Arya said to the Tyrell. "Take care of each other."

Margaery nodded and sniffed as if her throat was clogged. She cleared it. "I will, you all stay safe and do whatever it takes to come back. We'll be waiting at the camp with the Tullys."

Whoever planned to speak next, their words were drowned out by rapid knocks on the door. Just as she had the last time, Missandei made the first move to answer it. This time it was Daenerys and not Arya who told her to remain where she was. "I'll handle this," she said, secretly pleased to have an outlet for all her upset and nervous energy. She got to the door and took the knob it her hand, yanking so hard she thought it might detach from the hinges. "What!?" she shouted at the nervous young man standing in the hall.

"Ap…Ap…Apologies Princess. I… um… I … the King, he sent… everyone is waiting in the throne room." Arya was right about one thing, the boy was terrified and she didn't think it had to do with the greeting she gave him. A part of her had been holding onto the idea that maybe Arya was overacting, and that maybe the reason they were summoned had nothing to do with their plot, but that was becoming less and less plausible.

"I'm aware," she admitted, her voice hard, "my guard told you I'd be down as soon as I was able, did she not?"

"Y…Yes, Princess."

"Very well then. Please tell the King and everyone waiting, we'll be down as quickly as I'm able."

He didn't look pleased with the message she'd given him to carry, but he backed away, nonetheless. Before he'd even turned, Daenerys was closing the door between them.

When she got back to the others, it seemed everyone had finished their discussion. Margaery was holding a crying Sansa, Grey Worm was standing next to a worried Missandei, and Arya was looking at her, checking her face for any new information. She didn't have any to give. They were still waiting, and she still didn't know what it was about.

"No one needs to come with me," she said, speaking to all of them. "You are my friends, and I won't ask this of you. So, anyone who wishes is welcome to join Loras."

Grey Worm shook his head, while the woman next to him didn't even consider what Daenerys was suggesting. "We're ready when you are Princess."

Rather than voice her own feelings on the subject, Arya just held out her hand for Daenerys to take, a clear signal. Daenerys took her hand but had to let it go almost immediately when Sansa pulled her sister in for a final embrace. Daenerys stepped back to give them some measure of privacy.

While Arya and Sansa were occupied, Daenerys said her goodbyes to the Tyrells. "Be safe," Margaery said, her eyes betraying how concerned she was.

"You too," Daenerys replied.

When it was Loras in front of her, he showed his compassion by offering his sword. "I can accompany you," he proposed. "I can help, another skilled fighter might not be a bad thing."

If what she feared was true, adding Loras would only increase the number dead, it wouldn't alter anything else. She didn't tell him that however, choosing another path. "If you wish to help, get yourself, your sister and Lady Sansa to safety."

He smiled as if the instruction were precisely what he was expecting. "Be careful," he instructed, before they too shared a hug.

A few feet away Arya and Sansa were finished. She met Sansa's glassy blue eyes without trying and was at a loss for what to say. What could she possibly say to ease her pain? No words felt like enough, but she led with the truth as she knew it. "I will do everything in my power to make sure we see you again soon."

The young dressmaker smiled against her anguish and nodded. "I know. Thank you."

There was exactly nothing Sansa needed to thank her for, but she appreciated the gesture all the same. Arya got the last word in, speaking to Loras and providing tactical guidance. "Wait five minutes, once we're in the throne room and everyone is focused there, you should have no difficulty leaving."

There they had it. There was nothing left to do now except go downstairs and face whatever was waiting for them. Although a large portion of her, mainly her heart, wanted Arya safe and far away if there was trouble, Daenerys couldn't deny that it helped to be able to look over and see the woman she loved most in the world right there with her. She could only hope that their combined strength would be enough to get them through to the other side.

R-C

The walk to the throne room had always been a long and foreboding one for Arya, but this time was especially unpleasant. Was it her imagination or were the eyes of everyone they passed following them? She didn't know, it was hard to tell. She was finding it difficult to think of anything for long. She was worrying about Sansa, about Daenerys, weighing options in her head. Was there anything she could do or say at this point that would be a benefit or would she just be wasting effort?

As they neared their destination, she noticed for the first time Missandei and Grey Worm whispering together in what she could only assume was Valyrian. She closed her eyes and said a prayer to the Old Gods her father relied on, begging for the courage to face what was coming bravely. She also offered up her own life if someone needed to be sacrificed, provided it kept the others safe.

When the guards at the doors saw their group approaching, they opened them and addressed the royal among them. "Princess, go on in."

Daenerys stopped walking midstride and changed direction, leaving the guards confused and holding the doors. Daenerys waited until Arya, Missandei and Grey Worm were crowded around her, then she said, "No matter what happens, I'm not going to let them hurt any of you. Just stay quiet and I'll do the talking."

Arya's mind filled with counterarguments. She wanted to object to what Daenerys was suggesting. Arya was the guard, it was her job to protect Daenerys, not the other way around. That said, she also knew they had limited time and eyes on them. Reluctantly she used those final moments to do something more important than disagreeing with Daenerys's strategy. "No matter what," she said, "I'll never regret a thing that brought me to you."

Daenerys looked like she was about to kiss her lover senseless until she remembered where they were and why she couldn't. "Me either." With that Daenerys led them past the guards and into the throne room as though they weren't late.

R-C

A murmur started just inside the doors, with those spectators closest to the entrance and it continued as she walked to her seat. She could hear them whispering, questioning the delay, but she pretended they didn't exist. These people didn't matter. She didn't care if they gossiped about her from now until the end of their lives. They'd never be important to her. She walked calmly and as confidently as she could, a task that got more difficult once Grey Worm, Missandei and Arya were forced to leave her side. The last fifty feet were a lonely walk and she wanted to turn and run but she refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.

On her way to the chair, she looked around, trying to gain a better understanding of why they were there. It didn't look good. In addition to Rossart, the King's pyromancer being in attendance, there was also a barrel in the center of the open space, directly in front of the throne. If Aerys kept to his pattern that was wildfire and this was going to be an execution. Daenerys steeled herself, while her mind raced. Who had they come to punish? Her? Someone she loved?

"There you are," Rhaegar said loudly. "Father, Daenerys is here," he added, although Aerys was already looking at her.

"I see that," he remarked dismissively.

"Were we interrupting something vital Princess?" Tywin asked, clearly unimpressed with the delay she caused. The sarcasm dripping from his words was evident to everyone except the King most likely, he didn't appear to be listening to anything but the whispers in his head.

"Not especially," she replied as naturally as she could, "but perhaps a little warning next time so I can ensure I'm not in the middle of a bath when you need me."

She felt no shame or guilt as she lied about what she was doing and why it had taken so long for her to arrive. She also took a perverse pleasure from the change in Tywin's expression as she said the words, 'need me.' She could tell he wanted to make abundantly clear that he didn't need her, and yet he couldn't because she was the King's daughter. She smiled her falsest smile and waited to see if this inquiry would continue.

"You were in the bath, in the middle of the afternoon?" her brother verified.

When she turned her head to look at the Crown Prince, she spotted Aemon and flashed him a smile. He was grinning too, likely all too aware she was lying, but she knew he wouldn't expose her. The only danger Aemon posed would be if he was unable to keep from laughing.

"Yes," she lied, "I was enjoying myself too, before the interruption."

It was almost too much. The way Rhaegar blushed at her comments and the way he shifted in his seat to search out Arya. It was evident what he thought they had been doing and he wasn't happy about it.

Aerys mercifully chose that moment to take the lead. He clapped his hands and looked around. "Is everyone here then?" he asked, proving he hadn't really been paying attention previously.

"Yes, your Grace," Tywin told him.

As the King and his Hand spoke, Daenerys's eyes landed on Varys. He wasn't looking at her, but he didn't appear to be avoiding her eyeline either. Did that mean he had kept their secrets? If he hadn't exposed them, then why were they there?

"Bring in the prisoner," Aerys called loudly.

The Clegane brothers stepped away from their positions and Daenerys held her breath. If they needed to bring in the accused, that meant it wasn't Arya, or Daenerys, Missandei or Grey Worm, but if not them, then who? Was it possible this had nothing to do with her? As hope took root in her gut, she tried to temper it with realism. What were the odds they gathered to execute someone unrelated to Daenerys and her plan? If it were some random criminal, they'd need not wait for her, suggesting there was more to it.

It was difficult to see much of anything with the Hound on one side of the prisoner and the Mountain on the other. She breathed a sigh of relief when they stepped away from the man in chains and Daenerys didn't immediately recognize his face. A wave of calm settled over her, but it was short lived, because once Daenerys looked lower than his neck other details began to call for her attention. Things like the fact that he was wearing armor. The style looked familiar although she couldn't identify where she'd seen it. It wasn't until the Hound pushed him closer to the Targaryens and he fell to his knees that Daenerys was able to see the sigil he wore. Dread filled her. The mark of the Tullys. That was all it took for the rest of the details to become clear. She didn't need to know his name to know who he was or why he was there. He was there because of her, because she sought allies and implored them to join her. House Tully did and now a man loyal to Arya's family had been captured. This was all her fault.

"This man was found outside the city walls, scouting for our enemies and making notes of our defenses," Aerys accused. "You are charged with crimes against the throne, what say you?"

The man tried to stand, but the Mountain used a massive hand to keep him kneeling. "I am innocent your Grace," he stated loudly. "I was not scouting. I was granted leave and was plannin' to visit the city."

Daenerys didn't know if that was true or not, but she didn't need to. This man was one of her allies and she wasn't going to let him die. Aware speaking up wouldn't help she sought out friends. On the other side of the throne, both Tyrion and Varys were looking her way, both appeared as uncomfortable with their predicament as Daenerys.

"Lies!" Aerys shouted. "You wish us dead, I know it."

Daenerys held her breath. What would he say to that? Would he admit to hating the King? Would he reveal the existence of the army and explain its true purpose?

"We are training, your Grace," the man began, "we came from Riverrun to train. I was given the day for my own and wanted to buy my wife a gift."

Everyone waited to see how Aerys would react, but he said nothing, leaving it to Tywin to pick up the slack. "Training you say? What manner of training involves making notations about our defenses?"

Daenerys was going to speak, to try and muster some manner of defense for this man, but across from her Varys gave a subtle shake of his head. He was telling her to hold her tongue, but could she? Every second they waited was one more this man might break and reveal everything. Even if he stayed strong, her father could have him killed.

"I did nothing of the kind!" he insisted. "I am just a soldier Ser, I can not even read."

"You can not read?" Rhaegar repeated.

"Tis true," he claimed, moving his arms and making the chains rattle in the process. "I can write little more than my name."

Daenerys saw the opening she needed. She seized it. "If this man is telling the truth, he couldn't have been documenting our defenses. Where are the men who claim to have seen him taking notes?"

All around her the noble men looked at one another. "They aren't here, Princess," Varys told her when no one else appeared forthcoming.

Sensing a weakness, she kept pushing. "Very well then, what about his belongings? Surely they were collected."

"What of them?" Rhaegar asked her, already annoyed.

"Did he have the tools to take notes? Did you find any documents among his things? Was he carrying ink or scrolls?"

For a second time they showed their ignorance by looking at one another when they should have been replying. It served to prove how broken the capital was. They were so used to trials that didn't require any actual evidence that they stopped bothering to look for it. It didn't matter if the man was guilty or not, his life depended on the will of a madman. The facts mattered far less than whether or not the King thirsted for Fire and Blood.

When no one had the answer to Daenerys's reasonable and fair question, Rhaegar groaned. "Check his things!" he commanded. "Bring me the list of what he was carrying."

Just when she thought she was making progress, her father reminded them who was the real authority in Westeros. "We will find the truth!" he declared loudly. "Slave step forward."

Daenerys winced. She knew of only two slaves in the room, and she wanted neither mixed up in this. "Father, I recommend we bring in the guards who detained him, let's hear what they have to say."

"I have a better idea," he assured her.

Since neither Grey Worm nor Missandei knew which of them the King wanted, both stepped forward. Grey Worm took a knee while Daenerys's handmaiden bowed her head respectfully. "Which of us would please you, your Grace?" Missandei asked him, keeping her eyes down.

"Not you!" he barked. She felt relief as Missandei was spared and Daenerys hated herself for it. Knowing Missandei was safe was little comfort when it meant the man she loved was at her father's mercy. Either way Missandei would lose. "I was told you'll obey any order I give no matter what, is that true?"

"Yes your… Grace," Grey Worm said in a broken tongue, with unnatural pauses at incorrect places. The snickers from the court fueled her fire. Daenerys hated them. Had they no compassion. They clearly didn't know how hard Grey Worm was working, how after hours training his men, he would spend more with Missandei, learning the common tongue. He'd made great strides but was still a work in progress. He was much better at understanding the language in Westeros than he was trying to imitate it. Daenerys felt for him. Being the center of her father's attention was a difficult place for anyone.

"Prove it," the King ordered, "I order you to get the truth from this man! Do whatever it takes, I want to know who he is and who is leading his army."

Daenerys tensed up. Would he tell Aerys the truth? If he did there would be blood running through the streets of King's Landing before sunset. She wanted to think that Grey Worm wouldn't hurt this man. He surely realized where he came from and knew he was on their side, and yet he was an Unsullied who was bred to obey. The King had given him an order and he would follow it. "Tell me… your name," Grey Worm demanded as he approached the man in chains.

"Thom," he responded, his voice shaking. "My name is Thom."

Grey Worm stopped walking and looked toward the throne for more instruction. Varys chose then to involve himself. "Your Grace, are we sure the Unsullied is the right man for this job, he is still learning our language."

Her father didn't allow her to hope for too long. "Payne is dead," he reminded the room, "we need a new torturer. If he will do anything I tell him to, he's perfect."

Daenerys was horrified and looking around the room she wasn't the only one. While some encouraged or tolerated Aerys's worst impulses, many were as troubled by them as Daenerys was. "Yes, your Grace," Varys permitted, "but if he struggles to communicate, any questioning of subjects will suffer."

"What language do they speak?"

"Valyrian, your Grace," The Spider told him.

"Who can translate for the slave?" Aerys asked no one in particular.

Afraid Missandei would volunteer herself, Daenerys stood up. "I'll do it," she said, moving toward the prisoner.

"You speak Valyrian?" Tywin pressed, unconvinced, proving how little he knew about her.

"Flawlessly," she assured him.

"Go then," Aerys ordered, "tell the slave to hit him."

Daenerys hesitated, looking away from this Thom and toward the throne. "Father, if he is truly innocent, beating him will not lead to any information."

"If he's guilty it will. Tell him Daenerys, now!""

She was stuck. She wanted to tell Grey Worm to soften the blow, but she was afraid. She couldn't be sure that no one in the first few rows knew Valyrian, and if they did, they could reveal that Daenerys was passing along incorrect messages to Grey Worm. Then they'd all be fucked.

Judging by his dark eyes, he understood the King's command, yet he waited for Daenerys to repeat it in Valyrian. "Hit him a little," she said quietly, moving closer so they could speak at a lower volume. "I'm sorry," she told the man in the chains.

She thought they'd been granted a reprieve, when just before Grey Worm's fist landed, Aerys called out, "Stop!"

All too happy to repeat the order, she practically yelled it. Seconds later, any hope was carved out. "Take his armor off first, it'll make it easier!" the King advised.

She translated and Grey Worm got to work removing his armor. Since he was still bound Jaime Lannister stepped forward and gave Grey Worm the key to unlock his bindings. They stayed off just long enough to remove his armor and then the chains were reattached.

Watching him be stripped reminded her far too much of Arya's whipping and she didn't like the comparison. How in the name of the Gods was she going to get them out of this? She didn't know, but she did know she needed time to think, so as she bent over under the guise of picking up the soldier's breastplate, she whispered to him. "I'm going to help you, profess your innocence, keep him talking. It's going to be okay."

She backed away, taking the Tully breastplate with her and Thom wasted no time in doing his part. "Your Grace, I'm innocent. We were training in the Kingswood. Training, we mean you no harm. I wrote down nothing, I sent no message, I plotted with no one!"

"We can not believe the lies these usurpers spread. They will kill us all! I hear them!"

Daenerys never thought she'd be grateful her father was ranting about the voices, but every second they had his focus, Thom didn't. "The lad could be telling the truth," Varys noted. "As you know, your Grace, we have been receiving reports about the training in the Kingswood for weeks."

When Aerys was unconvinced, Varys nodded, Daenerys took it to mean she should make the next move, so she did. "What say you? Are you a spy for our enemies or are you loyal to your King?"

She tried to keep her tone even, but she was sorely tempted to pass along a hint about which one Thom should choose. He didn't need her assistance. Despite being a member of the Tully portion of her army with plans to overthrow the King, he lied, and he sounded sincere while doing it. "I'm innocent, I swear it. I swear it!"

A guard finally returned with the paper Rhaegar requested. Her brother didn't look at the document he was holding, but it provided Daenerys with the only opening she needed. "Was he carrying anything suspicious?" she asked her brother.

Unlike their father who had no problem with Daenerys being in the center of this, Rhaegar was unimpressed that she involved herself and did little to hide that from her when he said, "No."

That was all the evidence Daenerys needed to hear. "Perhaps Father the reason he claims to be innocent is because he is."

"Pain is the only true test of a man's honor," Aerys speculated, sounding more like a wise scholar than an insane King. "Have the slave hit him."

The next voice she heard surprised her. "It's okay Princess," Thom told her. She was skeptical but he grit his teeth in preparation and closed his eyes.

With no way to avoid it, and still fearful of being caught modifying the instructions she translated, she spoke slowly if only to give Thom more time.

The punch landed and Daenerys recoiled as though it struck her and not him. She didn't know if Grey Worm hit Thom as hard as he could, or if he softened the landing, but either way it knocked Thom off his knees, and he began coughing as he raised his chained wrists to his battered ribs.

"Again," Aerys demanded.

She passed along the message and Grey Worm delivered a kick to Thom's body. He stopped after the single strike. Daenerys was relieved but it appeared she was in the minority.

"Tell him to keep going," Aerys insisted. "I'll tell him when to stop."

Midway through translating for Grey Worm she changed languages and hissed at Thom. "Say something!" She covered it with a cough but wasn't sure how convincing she was. She didn't think Thom heard, because he did nothing until after Grey Worm kicked him again. It was when the Unsullied Commander was using the links of the thick chain between his hands to pull him up onto his knees that the beaten man addressed the court. "I am innocent," he said, between wheezing breaths. "I am loyal to the Realm and loyal to the Blackfish. Tell him I died with honor."

She couldn't be sure that message was for her, but Daenerys promised herself that she would. If she couldn't save him, if Aerys did kill him, Daenerys would make certain everyone knew he died a hero.

Aerys, Tywin and Rhaegar were unmoved by Thom's pleas and so Grey Worm had little choice but to hit him again. This time the punch was to the head and Daenerys felt as though she might vomit. She could not watch this. She could not let it happen. She had to do something. "Confess and the King may grant you mercy."

"Dany, you can't say that," Rhaegar objected.

She ignored him. "Did you do what they claim you did soldier? You say you have honor, you want to honor your King, honor House Tully, tell us the truth warts and all, and you may survive this."

As the words tumbled out of her mouth, Daenerys had to wonder if she was losing her mind. Inviting a co-conspirator in her plot to replace the King to tell the truth was a dangerous game. Daenerys just had to hope that Thom would understand that she was playing to an audience with everything she said and did, and it wasn't him. She needed her father to believe he was innocent and for that to happen, they needed to repeat it over and over again until it finally slipped through and reached his troubled brain.

"If I were guilty," Thom proclaimed, sucking in air and wincing in obvious discomfort, "if I did it, I'd say so and meet the Gods bravely, but I'm no traitor. I fight for the Dragon, and I fight for the Blackfish."

"We shall see," Aerys countered. The room was eerily quiet until he gave his next command. "Have the slave remove the lid from the barrel."

That was peculiar. Wildfire could be lit with the lid firmly attached, so it had to be something else. More than a little curious, but still smart enough to be wary, she translated and watched along with Thom as Grey Worm removed the cover from the top of the barrel.

"Water?" Grey Worm asked.

Unsure of what was supposed to be there, she checked with her family. "Is it supposed to be water?"

Aerys answered with a dark laugh that chilled Daenerys's bones. "Of course, we are going to see if this fish can swim."

"Father…"

Aerys wasn't interested in her point of view. "Tell the slave to push him face down in the water."

Daenerys looked at Thom and wondered what she should do. How much longer would he hold out, how much longer could she expect him to keep their secrets? To buy time she began a long, detailed description to Grey Worm about what he was supposed to do. While she spoke Thom crawled toward her. "Do it," he said bravely, "do what you must, but know I will not break because I have nothing to confess."

His words were aimed at Aerys so why did Daenerys get the distinct impression he was speaking to her? Was he telling her that he understood, that she should follow her father's orders? Was he promising he wouldn't talk about her plan or was she simply hearing only what she wanted to in a beaten and desperate man's frantic pleas?

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The Gods had to be punishing her. What other explanation was there?

It took every ounce of self control she could muster to keep from intervening. Arya knew Daenerys volunteered to translate so that Missandei wouldn't, and she knew that the Princess had done so intentionally, but it still felt wrong. It was strange, being so glad Missandei was outside of Aerys's scrutiny while at the same time wishing it was anyone other than Daenerys.

Why did it have to be a Tully? It could have been anyone, from any house, but it wasn't, it was a man from Riverrun, who given his age, probably heard the story of Catelyn Tully and her untimely demise since childhood.

While she waited to see how it would end, to see if Daenerys had a plan or not, her chest grew tight. Would Thom reveal the Princess's plot? With every punch and kick it seemed more likely and yet she allowed herself to hope he could resist.

Daenerys tried again to distract her father from the prospect of murder, but privately Arya questioned if death wasn't a kindness. Given the situation none of them could say how long Aerys would continue to order him tortured. Kicked and punched first, then drowned in a barrel, it was cruel. She didn't want to watch a man loyal to her great uncle die, but she didn't want to see him live like this either.

It wasn't just Thom who was being abused. With every blow the casualties piled up, Grey Worm who had no choice but to carry out the heartless orders, Missandei who had to watch the man she loved be used as a weapon, and Daenerys who had to stand by and act as the bridge between Aerys, Grey Worm and Thom.

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Three times Grey Worm pushed Thom's head under water and each time she counted the seconds until he was pulled up. She watched his body flail as he was starved of air, and felt she too was choking. Every second felt longer when it was accompanied by the gurgling and splashing of a drowning man. After less than ten seconds, the shortest dunk by far, Daenerys issued an order in Valyrian.

Grey Worm did as she instructed at once and pulled him up. Thom gasped for air, fighting to refill his burning lungs. "What did you say to him?" Tywin asked.

"I told him to pull Thom up," she admitted, "he won't be able to tell us anything if he drowns."

"The Princess has a point," Tyrion contributed from his seat near his father. The Hand turned to glare at his youngest child instead of praising his comment.

"Perhaps the Princess is correct," Varys opined aloud, "we know there is training taking place nearby, we have known for weeks the Tullys are participating, the real question we need to ask is, which is more likely, that the Tullys sent one soldier, a lone man to scout the walls and record the defenses of one of the most secure cities in the world, or that he is telling the truth, and hoped to buy his wife a trinket in the marketplace?"

Daenerys nodded along to the Spider's words, while idly wondering what prevented him from making that argument before they began trying to drown an innocent man. Still, she knew better than to reject a helping hand, even if it was attached to the manipulative Spymaster.

"What do you think?"

For one glorious instant Daenerys thought her father was asking her for advice, but it wasn't to be. "Let him go," Tywin suggested, surprising no one more than Daenerys, "but keep his belongings, then even if he has secret messages hidden away, he can't pass them along to the Blackfish or anyone else."

As the Hand of the King spoke, Daenerys was already thinking up ways to defy him. She would get Thom's gear back to him, regardless of the risks. He deserved that, at the very least.

"Rhaegar?"

The pause before the Prince replied felt prolonged. It left Daenerys anxious. No one had more sway with the King than Rhaegar. If he thought Thom was a traitor, Aerys would happily go along. She closed her eyes, awaiting the ruling. "He's no threat to us," her eldest brother decided with authority. "Let him go, the Tullys aren't stupid enough to join another rebellion, let alone lead one."

Realizing that he was talking about Robert's rebellion was like a knife stabbing into her stomach. Her instincts told her to go to Arya, to provide comfort and support to the woman she loved, but logically she knew she couldn't, and not only because they were in the crowded throne room. More important than even that, she still had Thom to consider, he wasn't yet safe.

With no warning at all Aerys changed directions completely. "Five hundred gold dragons," he offered, "if you confess."

Thom who was dripping water all over himself and the floor was confident. "I wish I had something to tell your Grace, but I'm innocent."

"A thousand," he shouted next. He didn't even wait for Thom to decline before he increased the amount. "Five thousand?"

While she waited to see if all her hard work would be unravelled by a single man's greed, it occurred to Daenerys that she wouldn't blame Thom if he did accept the bargain. Daenerys was the one who lured the Tullys into an alliance and then she gave orders for Grey Worm to torture him. She'd deserve it, if he decided her death was the price she owed for her failures.

"Now I really wish I had somethin' to tell. I'm 'fraid I have nothing to sell your Grace. I'm no spy, no traitor, nor strategist, I'm just a family man whose best years are behind him, who was hoping to bring my wife home somethin' from the capital."

"Can we trust this man?" Aerys asked everyone and no one.

Daenerys jumped in. "I do Father," she started, "I believe him." All eyes were on her again and this time it didn't unnerve her. This was good. She could use this. The trick she realized was telling her father and the men around him what they wanted to hear, reinforcing the ideas that they already believed. Luckily, Daenerys knew exactly how to accomplish that. "We are Dragons," she announced, walking from one side of the throne to the other, before turning back. "This is the most secure city in all of Westeros, maybe even the world," she exaggerated. "We could withstand a siege for years and our archers could defend an attack against thousands." Taking a deep breath, she twisted her body and looked out at the assembled crowd. She spoke to them. "The people in this room are the reason the Realm prospers, we are the cause of the peace and the wealth everyone enjoys, whether they live in the capital, the North, the Reach or even the Riverlands." As she said the name of his homeland she looked pointedly at the wet soldier. "This man is no spy, because if the Tullys or any other house were going to rise up against us, they'd know better than to send one man."

"You don't know that," Tywin resisted, unmoved by her reasoning.

"I do know, that the Tullys were a part of the last rebellion, right?" It hurt her to use the past as a tool to achieve her goal, but she sincerely hoped Arya would be able to forgive her for it and understand she did it only to try and spare Thom's life.

"They were."

She nodded. "Exactly, so what are we saying? That the Tullys are dumb enough to rebel again? That if they did, they'd think they could defeat us by sending one man, an illiterate, ill-equipped man against the Targaryen armies? I don't think anyone is that stupid."

When she finished the room was silent for the span of several long heartbeats and then the quiet shattered when Aerys began laughing, loudly. "She's right!" he said between breaks to express his amusement. "She's right, release him."

Everyone waited to see if the King would change his mind, but Daenerys wasn't going to allow that to happen. He said to release Thom and she was going to capitalize on it while she could.

Before he'd even finished, Daenerys was speaking to Grey Worm in Valyrian, telling him to unlock Thom's chains.

She felt better once Thom was free from his shackles, but the obvious pain movement brought kept Daenerys from feeling too good about herself. She wanted him to rest, but they needed distance, so she quietly steered him away from the throne, to a spot where they'd be less likely to be overheard. Once she was confident, she could speak somewhat honestly, she did. "I'm so sorry Thom."

Slowly people got up from their seats and began moving toward the exits. As they passed Daenerys heard two men complaining about the lack of bloodshed. Her head whipped around, and she tried to track the voices back to their sources. She needed to know who harboured such dark thoughts, so she could remove them from court and ensure they had nothing to do with politics when she was the ruler.

She was stopped before finding the culprits by the arrival of Missandei and Arya. Missandei had located a towel for Thom and gave it to him to dry his face. He made use of it and then forced a smile. "That's better, thank you m'lady," he said to Missandei.

"I'm so sorry Thom," Daenerys gushed, needing to tell him in no uncertain terms how terrible she felt about what transpired. "I should have done more to help you, and I regret that I didn't."

The next time Thom spoke it wasn't to Daenerys, but to the guard in Martell armor standing beside her. "You're her," he said, lowering his voice. He looked around to make sure no one was paying them any mind before continuing, "You're … Catelyn's daughter," he said purposefully avoiding using the name 'Stark.'

"I am."

"I was raised on stories of Lady Catelyn," Thom recalled, smiling in spite of his injuries. "My mom served yours, before she left for the North."

Arya was about to respond when Tyrion appeared behind Thom's back. "This is not the place for a prolonged conversation. Princess perhaps you and your guard should escort Thom back to the camp and make certain he arrives safely."

Daenerys couldn't argue with that. She needed to apologize to Thom properly and that would be difficult if they both had to be mindful of every word. Daenerys also needed to apologize to Arya's great uncle. One of his men was nearly killed and Daenerys couldn't stop it. Just thinking about that particular exchange had her anxious. She almost lost the Tully army once already, would they tire of her shortcomings and go back to Riverrun when they learned about Thom?

"I think that's a good idea." Daenerys agreed without much enthusiasm, "but first we should find you something to wear."

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Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for the delay. I wasn't happy with this chapter, so I wanted to keep working on it and then my health took a turn and it prevented me from dedicating much time to it.

I am grateful to anyone who is still reading, and I promise I will finish this story, no matter how long it takes. We're getting there slowly but surely.

I hope you'll stick around.

Thank you and be well,

RC