Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites and follows! Enjoy this next chapter!

Special thanks to darkwolf76 for helping with this chapter!

Chapter 30: Setbacks

Sleep still clinging to him, Robb rolled over, reaching out for his wife. He opened his eyes blearily and stared at the empty spot next to him in confusion. It took a few moments for him to remember, and when he did, he felt his heart drop and despair crash over him. He clenched his eyes shut, desperately trying to stay in his dreams. In his dreams, he and his wife were in their bed at home, in Winterfell. In his dreams, he could see her smiling up at him, her brown hair tumbling down her back, her laughter washing over him. In his dreams, he was light and happy with not a care in the world.

Every time he woke up, the realizations slammed into him one by one. His wife wasn't here. Something in their relationship had shattered, possibly beyond repair. His father was dead, Jon was at the wall, Sansa was captive in King's Landing, Arya was missing and presumed dead, Winterfell was burned to the ground by someone he considered his best friend and Bran and Rickon were nowhere to be found and most likely dead. As if that weren't enough, he could feel the war slipping through his fingers. He won every battle but yet it still felt like he was losing.

Everybody was looking to him, counting on him to succeed and it was the heaviest weight pressing on his shoulders. Not for the first time, he wished that his father were here. Though if he were here, they wouldn't be in this situation, would they?

The whole situation with Dorne was another unfortunate loss. Word of the fight between himself and Prince Oberyn spread through the camp like wildfire - it didn't take long before every man knew that the Red Viper blamed him for the death of his niece. Tensions grew between the two camps and Robb knew it was all going to come to a head. Then, one day, Prince Oberyn walked into his tent.

Robb turned, looking from the uncharacteristically grim expression on the prince's face to the scroll clutched in his hand. "News from Dorne," Prince Oberyn informed him, holding up the scroll. "They have heard about my nieces death and now my brother is recalling both me and my men back to Dorne."

Robb's mother had warned him that something like this might happen. He braced his hands on the table in front of him, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "If you leave, I lose a large part of my army."

"According to my brother, 'we have no reason to ally ourselves with a man that had handled my daughter's life so carelessly - "

Robb interrupted, suddenly furious. "We both know - " He broke off at the warning look on the prince's face and made an effort to lower his voice. "We both know that Mali - Rhaenys is still alive."

"Yes," Prince Oberyn agreed, in a voice that was almost dangerously soft. "But you still handled her life carelessly and you took her for granted. She gave up so much for you - never would I believe that Maliya of house Martell would put her sword away and wait behind in the tent like a dutiful wife. All to please you, to make you happy. That's how I knew how much she loved you. And then you sent her away."

"Careful now, Prince Oberyn." Robb's eyes were narrowed. "Maliya spent our entire marriage lying to me and keeping secrets." He held up a hand when Oberyn made to speak. "Yes, I know her reasons. While I can understand them, it doesn't make it hurt any less and it doesn't bring back the trust that was lost."

The two of them stared at each other, knowing that they would always be on opposite sides of this issue. "For the love that my niece has for you, I promise to tell Doran the truth of what happened - it's too much of a risk to send in a letter. But I'm afraid there's nothing that I can do, Your Grace. My brother sends his orders."

There was nothing that Robb could say or do to change the prince's mind and so they packed up their camp and left within a few days.

He wondered what Maliya - Rhaenys, he corrected himself angrily for the thousandth time - was doing right now. Was she in bed as well? Did he haunt her every waking thought like she did his? Was she feeling the same anger, longing, confusion, and regret that he felt?

He rolled over onto his back, throwing an arm above his head as he stared at the ceiling. There was a constant, aching pain in his chest that hadn't gone away since he last saw her. He missed her more than he could put into words. There were times when he thought he would give it all up - the crown, his army, everything - just to have her safe in his arms. More and more he was regretting agreeing to let her leave Westeros. He wished he had made her stay so they could work through their issues and pick up the pieces of their marriage.

Robb grumbled, yanking the sheets up over his head. Grey Wind, who had been asleep at the foot of his bed, shifted so his head was resting on Robb chest. The overall mood had been somber and subdued ever since his men had learned about the loss of their queen. Men clapped him on the back sympathetically and whispered words of consolation every time he passed. He had to shove his confusing feelings deep down whenever he was around other people, putting a mask on and focusing on being a King and leading his people.

Robb understood why he had to keep the fact that his wife was still alive a secret. There had been three assassination attempts on her life, and it was really pure luck that none of them had succeeded. The assassin that had snuck into their tent in the middle of the night was thwarted by Grey Wind. The poisoned wine meant for her would have killed him instead if not for Prince Oberyn. And the only reason she had survived the attack and subsequent fire at the inn was because of… he didn't even know - her Targaryen blood?

There was currently no safe place for her in Westeros. The Lannisters pockets were deep and their influence reached far. In order for the Lannisters to stop trying to kill her, Westeros had to believe that she had died. He knew that… he had accepted it. So then why was this still so bloody hard?

A knock sounded at his door and Robb bit back an annoyed sigh, pulling the sheet back down. "Yes?"

"My apologies, Your Grace," came the sound of his squires voice. "I came to see if you required my assistance."

"Just a moment, Olyvar." Robb patted Grey Wind on the head one last time before he slid out of bed. He slipped into the pair of trousers that were thrown on the floor from the night before and pulled a shirt over his head. Had it always been this loose on him? "Come in."

"Apologies for disturbing you, Your Grace," Olyvar said as he opened the door to his bed chambers. He was a tall, thin young man, with sandy brown hair and matching brown eyes. His eyes flicked up to look at Robb before quickly looking back down again. "Your lady mother has requested to break her fast with you and I told her I would check to see if you wished to."

"Yes, yes of course, thank you Olyvar." Robb finished dressing, staring out the window. He stared out over the Red Fork, his thoughts still with his wife.

Olyvar retrieved his leather armor, which he had taken to wearing after his wife's supposed death, and helped him into it. Olyvar had really stepped up since she left. In the beginning, Robb had been barely functioning, just going through the motions.

Olyvar brought him his food and made sure he ate. He had been a steady presence beside him day in and day out and Robb had really grown to count on him.

He was a loyal squire, though definitely a bit anxious, especially as of late.

Once Robb was suitably dressed, Olyvar led him down to the Great Hall, Grey Wind trotting at his side. The only time Grey Wind wasn't with him was when he was out hunting. The few men breaking their fasts bowed their heads to him as he passed. Robb nodded in return as swept past them, spying his mother at the high table in the back. "Mother," he greeted quietly, thanking Olyvar as he took the seat across from her. Grey Wind settled patiently at his feet.

"Robb." She studied him with a critical eye as he piled a plate with eggs and bread. Her eyes trailed over the thickening beard over his pale face and the bags beneath his eyes. "Have you been sleeping well?"

"Well enough," Robb grunted, taking a large bite of his eggs without really tasting them. He paused, belatedly remembering that his mother was also suffering from a recent loss. Had she even had time to grieve her father? He looked up at her, noting just how tired she looked. "And you mother? How are you doing?"

She sent him a sad smile. "You have enough to deal with without having to worry about me."

"You are my mother - I shall always worry about you." He snorted, shaking his head. "But you have the right of it. There are whispers amongst the men. Did you know they're calling me The King Who Lost the North? My men are losing faith in me. The iron born have taken over and many want to go win our home back." He looked up at her, feeling like a lost boy. "I am a homeless king. We have enemies to the north and enemies to the south. We are surrounded."

"Have you thought any more about Lord Frey's offer?" She asked. "You were able to delay in giving a response because you were grieving for Lady Maliya, but if you wait much longer you might lose more men." Robb's face darkened at her words. Seeing this, his mother sighed, her face softening in sympathy. She reached across the table, putting her hand on top of his. "I know exactly what you are going through Robb. Some days you feel numb and other days the devastation is so sharp and deep that you fear you won't have the strength to get out of bed."

"Mother - "

She shook her head, smiling. "I know you loved Maliya, Robb, she was my good-daughter and I loved her too. But Lord Frey will call his men back home unless you renegotiate the deal you made when you first crossed at the Twins. He wants - "

"I know what he wants," Robb interrupted, savagely stabbing at his eggs again. "His grandsons can no longer be fostered at Winterfell because Theon put it to the torch. Rickon is presumed dead so the marriage between him and one of Lord Frey's granddaughters is no longer possible. And…" He broke off, jaw clenching. "And with Maliya dead, I can no longer ward my firstborn son at the Twins." He shook his head. "Lord Frey presumes too much. I am his king. He cannot threaten to pull his men from my army if I do not marry one of his daughters - "

"Lord Frey does what he believes is best for Lord Frey," his mother reminded him. "He sees an opportunity to further his position and he is going to take it."

Bloody Walder Frey. Robb had tried to put off responding to Lord Frey's outrageous request, but the old man was nothing if not persistent. On the one hand how was he supposed to accept another marriage proposal when he knew that his wife was still alive? But on the other hand…. How long would it be before she returned? What if it were many moons? What if it were a year? What if - his heart thumped painfully at the thought - what if she had died somewhere in Essos?

"Yes, well - "

There was a sudden commotion and the doors to the Great Hall banged open. Robb turned to see Olyvar hurrying towards them, his face pale and his eyes wide and stricken. "Your Grace," he said in a strained voice, trying to keep quiet. "I just saw - I just heard - "

"What is it Olyvar?" Robb asked impatiently, his gut telling him that something was very wrong.

"It's Lord Rickard, Your Grace. He's killed the Lannister prisoners."

Cersei Lannister couldn't keep the smug smile off her face as she watched her little brother waddle into the small council chambers. When she heard what her father had planned for him she couldn't help but be amused. He would absolutely hate it.

"Good evening," he greeted, placing a large book on the table and awkwardly climbing into his chair across from her. Everyone was already seated. Lord Varys was seated next to her, positively reeking of his perfumes. Grand Maester Pycelle was across from him, stroking his snowy white beard and her father was seated at the head of the table, watching everyone silently with his pale green eyes. "You all will be pleased to learn that after one conversation with Olenna Tyrell, I've saved the crown hundreds of thousands on this wedding."

"Never mind that now," Tywin Lannister dismissed, waving a hand. "We have more important matters to discuss."

"Saving money is important," Tyrion pointed out, that annoying, sarcastic tone ever present. "I'm the Master of Coin - it's my job to save money."

Cersei hid a smile as her father completely ignored him. "What news from the realm?" He asked Lord Varys.

"Such terribly sad news, My Lord," Lord Varys simpered. "My little birds have told me that Robb Starks wife, Lady Maliya Martell, has perished in a fire." Cersei missed the reaction from everyone around her. Blazing triumph spread through her at his words. Rhaenys Targaryen was dead - her death by fire was ironic considering the Targaryen words, fire and blood.

…until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear. Now that Cersei knew that Rhaenys Targaryen was no longer a threat to her and her family, there was only one more soon to be queen she had to keep an eye on… her son's soon to be wife.

"…received word that Prince Oberyn Martell took his men back to Dorne after a nasty confrontation with the Stark boy," Lord Varys was saying when she focused back on the conversation.

"We must bring Dorne to our side," her father declared. "Their princess died on the boys watch, we must act now." He paused for a moment, before turning his gaze to Pycelle. "Send our condolences to Prince Doran for his loss and invite him to visit King's Landing for the upcoming wedding. We may be able to reach some sort of agreement."

"Excellent, My Lord, I shall sent a raven at once," Pycelle responded, feebly nodding his head.

"Splendid. You are dismissed." Everyone bowed their heads, and started to rise. "Not you, Tyrion. Stay - there is something we must discuss." Tyrion settled back into his chair, his expression turning concerned as he glimpsed the smug smile on his sister's face. Cersei began to stand as well, through she truly wished she could stay to see the look on Tyrion's face when her father told him he was to marry Sansa Stark. Cersei's smile slipped as her father turned to her, a pit of unease settling in her stomach. "Sit. There is something we must discuss as well."

Rhaenys stared at herself in the looking glass that rested on the table in her new room. After her and Aegon's talk with Daenerys, she moved them further up in the pyramid. Rhaenys couldn't tell if these new, much more extravagant rooms were an indication that she believed Rhaenys and Aegon's identity claim or if it was just a show of curtesy.

Rhaenys would have been fine where they were, but she had to admit that for bed chambers, this room was beautiful. Everything was decorated in different shades of light blue and gray, giving the room a very cheery feel. They were positioned higher up in the pyramid so their views were breathtaking. The beds were plush and the sheets were silky. There was a small sitting area with couches, a large changing screen in the corner which hid a beautiful tub and a large wardrobe which stored the pitiful amount of dresses she brought with her.

Her favorite part was the table that she was currently standing in front of. An ornate looking glass hung above it, and there were brushes, combs and perfumes resting on the table in front of her. Rhaenys had moved the cushioned chair out of the way and was standing in nothing but the thin, silk robe that had been provided for her. She had opened it all the way, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing.

Her body was changing. Her breasts were definitely larger and for a moment her mind drifted as she imagined Robb's reaction to them. The corner of her lips tilted up as she imagined the things they would have done in the bed just behind her, but she had to quickly shake her head and focus on what had originally caught her attention.

She had turned her body at all possible angles and ran her hands over it, but now seeing it in the looking glass there was no denying it. Her baby had grown and she was now sporting the smallest of bumps. She knew she hadn't been getting her moon's blood, she knew she had been getting sick a lot and she knew that her emotions had been all over the place lately, but seeing the physical evidence in the looking glass made it seem all the more real.

She was with child - Robb's child. Her hands slowly moved over the bump, unable to take her eyes off it in the mirror. While it was absolutely, completely bizarre to see her body changing in this way, awe and unbridled joy filled her chest and before she knew it tears were spilling down her cheeks.

Her mind wandered. Was it a boy or a girl? She knew a boy would be best in order for Robb to have an heir, but after losing her first baby all she wanted was this one to be born healthy. A small part of her wished that her baby was a girl. If it was a boy, she would eventually lose him to be fostered at the Frey's. If she already felt this much love for her unborn child, then she couldn't imagine the pain of sending him away to the Frey's.

She pushed the thought from her mind. She already felt better knowing she was further along this time around. She knew herself well enough to realize that she was going to be watching anxiously to make sure both her body and therefore the baby were still growing.

When she closed her eyes, an image of the most beautiful baby would appear. A baby with wisps of Robb's auburn curls, round, chubby cheeks and the brightest blue eyes. She wanted that so badly it hurt.

She lost track of how long she stood in front of that looking glass, just staring at her bump. The tears had long since dried on her cheeks when she finally tied the robe closed and moved the chair to sit in front of the table. The parchment, quill and ink that she had requested yesterday were sitting to the side. She pulled it in front of her, dipped the quill into the ink and began to write from memory.

Good-daughter

How are things back home? Of course, that is where I would prefer to be, but it appears that won't be possible for me. Whether people understand it or not, I was doing what I thought was best for the realm.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about family and I'm glad that you have become a part of mine. All of my children have come to truly care for you, as have I. Now I know that this may seem like a big task, but I pray that you will help look after them as I fear that I cannot. Destiny seems determined to keep us apart.

Regret fills me at the thought, but I have the utmost faith in them. Even though we will be separated, I will always love them. Especially now that they are growing older and finding their way in the world. Do me a favor, good-daughter, and only show this message to the others when the time is right – you'll know when that is.

Your good-father

Rhaenys had read Lord Stark's letter so often before it burned in the fire at the inn, that she had completely memorized it word for word. As she read it again for what felt like the millionth time, she felt the same sadness and frustration. Lord Stark had used his final moments to send this letter to her for a reason. She just couldn't bloody figure out what that reason was and it made her feel like she was failing him.

A knock sounded at her door, startling her out of her thoughts. She capped the ink and rolled the parchment up, hiding it in a drawer where she hoped no one would find it. "Come in!" She called, turning in her chair to face the door.

"Your Grace?" Dacey opened the door and strode into the room. "Daemon is ready for you and I - oh!" She stopped abruptly, eyes widening and face reddening for a moment before she quickly spun to face the door again. "I'm sorry, Your Grace!"

Confused, Rhaenys looked down at herself. "All of you Northerners are the same," she sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "It's not like I'm naked, Dacey, I'm in a robe and all of my important bits are covered. Are you that offended by the sight of my knees?" She teased with a grin.

"Your bits may be covered, Your Grace, but that robe doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Rhaenys glanced down again and shrugged. Both the fabric of the robe and the climate of Mereen reminded her so much of her home in Dorne. The heat of the sun battled the refreshing breeze from the ocean and the light fabric of the clothes in Mereen were so similar to what she would wear back home. Rhaenys pushed away the wave of homesickness that threatened to overtake her.

With an amused smile on her face, Rhaenys stood and pulled a plain, casual dress from her wardrobe and went to change behind the screen. "Daemon found the training hall then?" She asked, slipping out of her robe.

"It's on the third floor of the pyramid," Dacey informed her. "He wanted to find the pit and the dungeons as well, but the Unsullied saw him snooping around and put a stop to that." Rhaenys thought she heard Dacey mutter "idiot" under her breath and she couldn't help but chuckle quietly. Dacey and Daemon had such an interesting dynamic that Rhaenys couldn't help feeling entertained most of the time - when it wasn't exasperating and annoying.

"How's the little wolf pup doing today?" She could hear the happiness in Dacey's voice as she asked the question. She had started calling the babe a "wolf pup" and the name just stuck. Rhaenys liked it - it reminded her of Robb.

Rhaenys, who had just finished slipping on her dress, looked down once more. She had lost weight during their journey to Mereen and her dresses had been hanging looser on her frame. Now, they were becoming a bit more snug. "I'm going to need to have some new dresses made soon, I think. Alright, you can stop facing the door now."

"That's a great sign," Dacey said cheerfully, peeking over her shoulder to make sure Rhaenys was decent. "It means the pup is growing." She gestured for her to sit in front of the looking glass once more and began to brush through her hair. Rhaenys had originally protested, saying that she could do her hair on her own but Dacey had insisted. She honestly didn't know what she would do if she didn't have Dacey here with her. She had become her guard, her advisor, her handmaiden and her friend. "Did you eat the food I sent up for you?"

Rhaenys hid her exasperation. In addition to all those other roles, Dacey had taken on a protective, mother role. She was constantly fussing over Rhaenys, making sure she was eating the right foods, drinking enough water, and was feeling alright. "Yes, Dacey. Though if you keep giving me that much food nobody will be able to tell that I'm with child because I'll be so bloody fat."

"You're not just eating for yourself anymore, Your Grace," Dacey chided lightly. Her fingers flew through Rhaenys' shoulder length hair. It was still relatively short from when she hacked it off after the fire, so the most Dacey could do was twist and braid the top half back. "The pup eats what you eat, you need to be mindful of that. My sister Alysane birthed two children, a girl and a boy, so I know the toll it can take on your body."

Rhaenys stood once her hair was finished and turned, squeezing Dacey's arm. "I know and I appreciate all of your expertise and advice. I don't remember much about when Mellario was expecting Trystane and I don't - " She looked away, jaw working for a moment as she forced herself to voice a fear that she had been fighting ever since she realized she was with child. "I don't know what to expect when it comes to carrying a baby or raising a child."

"I can't imagine anyone really knows what to expect with their first child. I'm not a mother myself but I can tell you what I observed from my own mother and from Alysane. You'll never be alone in this, Your Grace." Dacey gave her a bright smile, either not noticing or choosing not to bring attention to the renewed sheen of tears in Rhaenys' eyes. She had probably become accustomed to Rhaenys' quickly changing moods. "Now come! We mustn't keep Daemon waiting; who knows what sort of trouble he'll get into when left alone."

Rhaenys glanced around as they left the bed chambers, noting the two Unsullied soldiers standing outside her door. Dacey caught her looking and grimaced. "One of them followed me down to the training hall and back," she confirmed under her breath. "Queen Daenerys may be giving us free rein in the pyramid but we have chaperones."

"Yes," Rhaenys murmured, keeping her voice low even though she suspected they didn't speak the Common Tongue. "Her Grace mentioned that to me in our last meeting." Daenerys had only met with her one other time after their initial meeting and even that was for a short period of time. She sent word, apologizing and explaining that she needed to focus on regaining control of Mereen and meeting with the citizens. Rhaenys heard rumors that she had crucified one hundred sixty three Great Masters in retribution for the on hundred sixty three slave-children that they had killed just before her arrival. The whole city was both terrified and furious. Needless to say, Daenerys had her hands full.

Rhaenys followed Dacey down what seemed like an endless amount of stairs, all the way down to the third floor. The training hall was a large, square room broken up into different areas. She could see practice swords along the far wall and a section for archery practice. There were some Unsullied soldiers undergoing drills and a few other men she didn't recognize. She spotted Daemon in the far corner and he beckoned them over with a smile.

"Are we sure that this is safe?" Rhaenys asked the two of them doubtfully as they approached.

"I found these wooden swords that we could practice with," Daemon said, holding one out to her. She took it, slightly reassured. "Practice swords are preferable but even those can cause broken bones if not handled correctly."

"Alysane defended Bear Island while she was expecting. As long as you're not overexerting yourself you'll be alright," Dacey added. "You know your body best, so if something doesn't feel right then just let us know and we'll stop."

Rhaenys nodded, shifting her grip on the wooden sword and shifting her gaze to Daemon. His grin was wide as he began to circle her. She felt herself automatically switching to a defensive stance, staying on the balls of her feet as she kept him in her sights. "It's been many years since we've dueled like this, Your Grace. Back when you were just a skinny little princess of Dorne."

"I hope you don't go easy on me just because I am your queen, Ser Daemon," Rhaenys warned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I wouldn't dare." She caught a flash of his dimples as his grin widened. The slight narrowing of his sky blue eyes was the only warning she had before he attacked.

She instinctively raised the wooden sword to block the attack and from there he didn't give her a chance to think. She was seriously out of practice. Her movements felt slow and sluggish, her reaction time slower than usual. Despite saying that he wouldn't take it easy on her, Daemon was definitely holding back. He stuck to basic moves and didn't put his full strength behind his blows. He attacked her from all angles, and she knew he was getting her used to having a sword in her hand again.

Rhaenys held back a bit at first as well, fully attuned to her body and the babe in her belly and waiting for the slightest reason to stop. Eventually though, she was pleased to find that her body held up quite well. She relaxed a bit, focusing more on the battle at hand and pushing to go on the offensive. It wasn't long before she felt her muscles burn from disuse but she welcomed it, reveled in it.

Seven hells she had missed this.

Daenerys hadn't believed Ser Barristan when he informed her that Rhaenys was in the training hall. She had had a rare free moment and wanted to invite her up, but instead she was following Ser Barristan down to the third floor of the pyramid to see for herself.

She spotted Rhaenys easily. Both she and her bastard guard were dueling with wooden swords and were too engrossed to notice her approach.

She stopped beside Ser Jorah's cousin, glancing up at the taller woman. Jorah had been strangely tight lipped when it came to his cousin. So many emotions would fly across his face at the mere mention of her name, but the most obvious one was pain.

"Lady Dacey," Daenerys greeted, green eyes meeting her purple as Dacey inclined her head to her respectfully.

"Your Grace."

Daenerys turned her attention back to the fight before them and was captivated by what she saw. She had only ever seen men fighting with the intent to kill. It was aggressive, savage and bloody. This fight though… their movements were quick yet fluid in a way that it almost reminded Daenerys of a dance. There would be a flurry of parries and blows before they would spin away and come back together.

"I don't know much about sword fighting, but Rhaenys… she's quite good, isn't she?"

A proud smile lit Dacey's face as they watched the fight. "Daemon is one of Dorne's finest swords, but Rhaenys was taught by Prince Oberyn Martell, one of the most fearsome warriors in the Seven Kingdoms. She fought with the North in the Battle of the Whispering Wood and had a hand in capturing the Kingslayer. I've seen her fight and I've fought by her side. It is an honor and a privilege to serve such a Queen."

Daenerys chose to ignore the sidelong glance that Dacey sent her. She searched for something to say as they watched. "Ser Jorah has told me a lot about your home - about Bear Island."

Dacey noticeably stiffened. "Ser Jorah," she spat in a strained voice. "Has no right to speak of Bear Island."

"He misses it very much and wants nothing more than to be able to go home - "

"Bear Island is no longer his home." Dacey turned to face Daenerys and there was unmistakable glimmer of rage in her eyes. "My uncle Jeor took the black for my dear cousin. Bear Island was his, he was our lord and he threw it all away for that - that - " Dacey ground her teeth, seemingly to realize who she was speaking to and swallowing the harsh words on the tip of her tongue. "Woman. Then, instead of facing his punishment or joining his father and taking the black, he fled, abandoning us and ruining the Mormont name."

"Is everything alright?" They turned to see that Rhaenys and Daemon had stopped fighting and were heading towards them. Rhaenys' eyebrows were furrowed in concern as she looked between the two of them.

"Everything is just fine." Daenerys smiled as Dacey nodded, taking a deep breath and smoothing her expression. Her eyes surreptitiously took in the other woman's worn, threadbare dress and tattered boots. She certainly didn't look like what Daenerys pictured a queen to look like. "You fight well."

Rhaenys shrugged off the compliment, handing Daemon her sword and pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "It's kind of you to say so, but I am terribly out of practice." She shifted her hips from side to side, rolling her shoulders. "And I am going to be very sore tomorrow."

"That's not the first time a woman has said that after a session with me." Ser Barristan sputtered in indignation and Dacey rolled her eyes. Daenerys' eyebrows rose at the comment made to his queen, her eyes going to Rhaenys to see how she would react.

To her surprise, Rhaenys shook her head and laughed, the amusement clear in her eyes. "Apologies for my Dornish friend, Your Grace," she said, still chuckling. "Apparently he's forgotten that he's in the presence of a queen."

"My apologies, Your Grace." Daemon bowed low, sounding contrite but she could see the grin still playing around the edges of his mouth.

"It's quite alright," she told him, smiling as she waved off their apologies. "I can assure you I have heard far worse from my time with the Dothraki." Her eyes moved to Rhaenys. "I came to see if you would like to join me on my terrace. I have a bit of free time and there are some things I'd like to speak with you about."

"Yes, of course. I just need to freshen up and change and then I can meet you."

Daenerys nodded, pleased. "My Unsullied will escort you when you are ready."

A short time later, Rhaenys had scrubbed the sweat off her body and was following Daenerys' guards up to her apartment, wearing a more fitting dress.

Daemon was walking half a step behind her. He had insisted on accompanying her to meet the queen, saying that his heart had all but stopped when he realized Dacey had let her go without protection. He went on about how they didn't know Daenerys and couldn't trust her. When he brought up his promise to her uncle that he would keep her safe, she cut him off and let him come with her.

"I need you to let me do the talking," she instructed Daemon under her breath as they passed through the audience chamber.

"I have served your uncle for many years, Rhaenys, I know what is required of me. I promise to just stand there quietly." Daemon's voice was soft, his tone insistent as he spoke. "I would never do anything to jeopardize what you're trying to do, but I'm also not going to let you walk into the dragon's den alone."

Rhaenys looked over her shoulder, meeting his blue eyes for a long moment before she gave him an appreciative nod. His outward appearance was calm, but she knew he was constantly checking his surroundings, taking note of the many Unsullied soldiers stationed last every pillar.

They fell silent again as they walked up the broad marble staircase. Daemon whistled low under his breath as they passed through her impressive apartments and out onto the terrace. Rhaenys blinked in the sudden sunshine, shading her eyes and squinting in the blinding light. "Welcome, Your Grace, Ser Daemon," Daenerys greeted with a smile, seemingly unphased by his appearance. "Please, join me." She gestured to the seat across from her at the little round table that was laden with different fruits. Barristan Selmy was standing just behind Daenerys; Daemon took up a similar position behind Rhaenys as she sat down. "Can I offer you something to drink? Wine? Ale?"

"Maybe a cup of that pomegranate juice if you have it?" Rhaenys asked hopefully. She had grown to love the sweet taste of it on a hot, sunny day.

Daenerys looked to Daemon questioningly but he just shook his head. She looked over her shoulder at Missandei who bowed slightly and left. "How have you all been settling in? Are your new rooms to you liking?"

"Yes, they're wonderful, thank you," Rhaenys said politely.

"I'm glad to hear it. I'm sorry that I haven't called on you since our first meeting."

"Conquering a city takes a lot of work. It is quite understandable, you don't need - " She was cut off by a loud cry above them. They all looked up to see the four dragons circling above them and getting closer. It was difficult to tell Meraxes apart from Viserion - they were so close in color. She was only able to pick her out from the others was because she was so much smaller than them.

Her eyes followed Meraxes, that same fierce pride running through her as she landed. Meraxes gave a happy, crooning cry as she walked toward Rhaenys.

"Hello, Mera,"Daemon greeted when her golden eyes looked up at him. He grinned cheekily at Rhaenys' unamused look at the nickname.

"Are you enjoying your time with your new friends?" She murmured, running a hand carefully down her white scales, taking care to stay away from her gold spikes. They seemed to grow sharper everyday. Meraxes seemed to vibrate when Rhaenys reached the spot between her wings and it took her a moment to realize that her dragon was… purring? "You've been spending more time with them than me as of late. I'm starting to feel a bit jealous."

"She fits in with my dragons very well," Daenerys told her, watching Rhaenys and Meraxes interact, her violet eyes missing nothing. "It's only been a couple of days, but as far as I can tell they've accepted her as one of their own."

"Does that surprise you?"

"It does actually." Missandei came back out on the terrace, handing Daenerys a glass of chilled wine and Rhaenys her pomegranate juice. Rhaenys smiled at Missandei in thanks as Daenerys continued. "I never would have thought that there was another dragon out in the world - and if there was another dragon, I certainly wouldn't have thought that they would all get along."

Rhaenys leaned forward, her eyes alight. "But why wouldn't they? Meraxes and I are not your enemies and I think deep down you know that. If we created an alliance and joined together, we could take back our family's throne and root out those bloody Lannisters one by one. Who could stop four dragons with an army at their back?"

Daenerys fell silent for a moment, her eyes on her own dragons. "I will not be heading to Westeros. Not just yet, anyway."

Rhaenys' mouth fell open. Disappointment formed a heavy knot in her chest and she wanted to slump in dismay. "What?" She breathed, certain that she had heard her wrong.

"My dragon's grow stronger and faster everyday, but they are not ready for war. They cannot hold their flame long enough, their scales are not yet strong enough to defend against weapons and they are not big enough to ride into battle." Her gaze moved to look out to the city of Mereen, a frown playing around the corners of her mouth. "Mereen is in disarray. The Great Masters are unhappy that I've ended the slave trade. If I leave now, everyone that I've freed will be put back in chains again."

Rhaenys could hear the emotion in her voice. "It is a noble and honorable thing that you are doing, Your Grace, but these are not your people and this is not your home - "

Her violet eyes snapped to her, narrowing. "What kind of queen would I be if I free these people only to abandon them again? I freed the people of Astapor from the masters and left a council of three wise men behind - a healer, a scholar and a priest. I left Astapor, not giving it a second thought as we marched to Mereen and do you know what happened?" Rhaenys stayed silent, watching Daenerys as she struggled to hide the rage in her voice. "A butcher killed the council members, named himself king and began training new Unsullied. Once again boys are being taken from their mothers and they will spend years being tortured as they learn to fight." She shook her head in disgust. "I move from city to city, thinking that I am helping those under the thumb of the masters, but I end up leaving destruction and ruin in my wake. What good have I done since being in Slaver's Bay? How can I be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms? Why would the people of Westeros support and follow me?"

Rhaenys leaned forward, imploring. "If you come to Westeros with us - "

Daenerys, in turn, leaned back, her face clearing. "My decision has already been made. My dragons are not ready and I am not ready." She paused. "It will take years before Meraxes is large enough for you to ride. At this age and this size, she's an enormous target. Take it from me - when word of her existence spreads throughout Westeros, your enemies will either try to steal her from you, thinking they can control her, or kill her before she becomes too dangerous."

Rhaenys looked down at Meraxes as she let out what sounded like an indignant cry. Her golden eyes were narrowed at Daenerys, almost as if she could understand what she was saying - and she didn't like it. Hot anger swooped through Rhaenys' stomach at the thought of anyone trying to steal her dragon from her.

Let them try… it would be the last thing they ever did.

Rhaenys sat back in her seat, lacing her fingers together tightly in her lap instead of crossing her arms like she wanted to. Frustration mixed with the anger, her brown eyes hard and her lips pressed in a flat line. "We will have to return home soon," she said. "I cannot very well negotiate an alliance with you for 'whenever you are ready to Westeros.' When will that be? A few moons? A year? More? I don't know what state Westeros will be in and we are at war. We cannot sit around and wait for you."

The two of them stared at each other across the table - family, queens and neither one of them happy with the situation. "So where do we go from here?" Daenerys asked, spreading her hands. "Will you return to Westeros?"

The thought of returning to Westeros a failure sent shame sweeping through her. She had faked her death, along with Daemon's and Dacey's, traveled for months to find a long lost aunt and for what? How was she supposed to face Robb with no alliance? It would mean this whole journey was a waste.

"I'm not sure," Rhaenys admitted. She broke eye contact first, blinking as she reached for her cup of pomegranate juice. Her frustration only mounted when she felt her eyes burn with unshed tears and she cursed her tumultuous emotions once more. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself. "Finding you wasn't the only reason that I left Westeros." She felt Daemon stiffen behind her but she ignored it. She knew she was taking a risk and volunteering sensitive information to her aunt. "Someone was trying to kill me. The first attempt was an assassin in the night. The second was poison and the third time they sent a group of men after us. They attacked and in the fight the inn went up in flames. I would have died… I should have died," she corrected softly, looking down at Meraxes once more, a tender expression on her face. "But I think she saved me somehow. I was holding her egg when the fire reached me, and she ended up hatching. It was like she protected me somehow." Rhaenys paused for a long moment, remembering the screams of the poor girl who died, the feeling of the flames touching her skin and the moment that Meraxes hatched. "There was a girl with me, the innkeepers daughter. She perished in the fire and I made it seem like I was the one who died. Besides my husband and my uncle, Westeros believes that I am dead."

"Who do you think put so much effort into killing you?"

"Some people in Westeros may believe that I am the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. There's only one family that I can think of that would benefit from my death."

"The Lannisters." Rhaenys looked up at Ser Barristan as he spoke up for the first time. The expression on his face was grave and there was a righteous anger in his eyes. "They dismissed me, gave the boys dog, Sandor Clegane a white cloak and named the Kingslayer Lord Commander. Not only did they soil the reputation of the Kingsguard, but the Lannisters tried to have me killed. I had to kill two guards in order to get away. I believe the Lannisters will do anything to keep the Iron Throne."

"I'm sorry that they did that to you, Ser Barristan." Rhaenys shook her head. "Every child in Westeros grew up hearing stories of Barristan the Bold, the man who ended the Blackfyre line and the War of the Ninepenny Kings and your feats at Duskendale. You deserved better."

"As did you," he said in a soft voice, inclining his head towards her. Rhaenys barely hid her surprise. Did this mean that he believed she was telling the truth?

"You are welcome to stay for as long as you need," Daenerys told her. She looked out to her city for a moment, and when she turned back her face looked uncertain. "I… I hope that you do - decide to stay, that is. I should like to get to know both you and Aegon better."

Rhaenys searched her face, seeing the conflicting emotions - a glimmer of hope mixed with something else that she couldn't name. "Thank you, Your Grace. We will stay for a little while longer. As for Aegon," she said lightly, smiling despite her exasperation. "He's become quite good at slipping away from your guards. Maybe you'll have better luck getting to know my brother than me."

Author's Note: So we got a little glimpse from Robb, who's stuck in struggle city as well as a peek at King's Landing. Also, Dany is not quite ready to head to Westeros just yet. I hope you guys understood her reasons for staying. Anyway, I hope you guys liked the chapter, I would love to hear your thoughts!

Coming up within the next couple chapters:

- Dorne's response to the news about Rhaenys and the invitation from Tywin

- Robb deals with Frey's marriage proposal

- Rhaenys/Aegon/Dany scenes as well as Barristan/Rhaenys and Dacey/Jorah

- Rhaenys dealing with her pregnancy (I love all things babies so this is going to be fun to write!)

G1234: Thanks for your review! I'm glad you found her response realistic. Also, well done for remembering her dream! Not many people mentioned that.