(A.N. are below)

III

The North and The East

ARYA

Arya and her family had been waiting for the king and the royal court to arrive.

Instead, they got Cersei Lannister and her children.

They arrived yesterday at midnight, so Arya's family couldn't give her a proper welcome. Today, however, would be the day that both families would finally meet. Mother arranged for the children of both families to break their fast together.

"How do you think they are?" Bran asked. He sat at one of the heads of the table (Sansa sat at the other), while Arya sat on the side, next to Robb, who sat in the centre of the table.

"Blond." Robb said. "Lannisters are known for having hair like the gold of their mines."

"And rich." Arya replied. She had heard of the endless riches of the Lannisters of Casterly Rock.

"Rich and blond!" Little Rickon exclaimed with excitement; he was three years old, and couldn't help himself. Robb, who sat beside him, had to calm him down and remind the little boy to behave.

"They're late." Sansa stated with derision. "By half an hour." She said it like it was the greatest crime ever committed.

"Maybe they are too pampered for Winterfell." Bran said as he shifted in his seat. "They probably are so rich that they don't even have to get out of bed to eat."

"Lord Wyman eats in his bed." Arya said.

"How do you know that?" Sansa cut in, incredulous.

"Jon said so. He wrote us a letter, remember." Jon had been serving in White Harbour for almost a year for one of Lord Wyman's cousins. He wrote to them often —especially to Arya— but they missed him just the same. However, from the looks of it, Sansa didn't seem to miss her half-brother much. She was certain her sister didn't even read the letters Jon sent.

"He also said that was because Lord Wyman was so fat that he couldn't get up." Robb added, and an easy smile appeared on his face. "Perhaps these Lannisters are also fat."

"Maybe that's why they're late." Bran chirped in.

They all laughed, except for Sansa. "You are all being childish." She sniffed.

But Arya and her brothers ignored her.

"They're rolling down the halls and stairs with their fat bellies and arses." Arya said between giggles.

"Maybe they are ugly!" Bran almost shouted, and another round of laughter emerged from the table.

"Ugly, fat and blond!" Little Rickon shouted with glee.

But as quick as the laughter began, it ended the moment they heard the door open.

Their guests have arrived: all three of Cersei Lannister's children. And they were not fat or ugly.

But they were blond, though.

The eldest child, a girl not much older than Robb, yet taller, stepped forward.

"Please forgive us for our delay. We meant no offence." She said while looking at them.

There was an awkward silence. The girl seemed to be waiting for an answer: An answer Robb should be providing.

Arya looked at her brother and found him staring at the girl.

"I am afraid we have not been formally introduced." The girl said. Now she was looking at Robb.

Arya had no idea what to do, and as Robb did nothing, she glanced to Sansa for guidance. She didn't find much; her sister was looking at their brother with a distressed countenance on her face.

"I am Elaena of House Velaryon of Driftmark." The girl continued, and there was still no reaction from Robb. He seemed to be in a trance.

"These are my younger siblings: Myrcella and Tommen Lannister of Casterly Rock." Two blond children stepped forward, both looking uncertain.

Suddenly Arya felt Sansa nudging her on the leg. She looked at her and found her mouthing some words.

Kick him.

And so she did; with all her strength, she kicked her older brother.

Robb jerked off his daze and jumped out of his seat. "Uh... I am Robb Stark." He managed. Robb's face was beet red, and Arya almost felt sorry for him.

Why is he acting like this?

"You must be Lord Eddard's heir, then?" Elaena asked.

"Yes! I mean, yes, I am." He said and looked at his siblings. "These are my brothers." He gestured to his right. "Rickon and Brandon." Then he gestured to his left. "And my sisters: Arya and Sansa."

Their guests made a quick courtesy.

"Please, be seated." Robb said while he indicated their seats.

As they did so, Arya took the liberty of watching them carefully.

Little Myrcella Lannister, who sat across from her, looked like a doll: a mass of golden curls tied back with a burgundy ribbon, and she was wearing a pretty pink silk dress with burgundy lace as well. In the middle, fronting Robb, sat Elaena. She was very beautiful, her eyes were light blue like the sky, her skin pale and smooth, and her hair was so fair it almost looked like silver. She wore a sea-green damask gown that had pearls encrusted at the collar.

Arya could only imagine how expensive those dresses were.

At the other end of the table sat young Tommen. He was a rather chubby boy of about six or seven years old. He was wearing a fine red doublet with a golden choker that matched his hair.

Dishes came and went, and they mealed in relative silence for a while (but for Tommen and Bran, who were in a fairly interesting conversation about the knights). Until Rickon asked a question many at the table wondered, or at least, Arya did so too.

"Why do you have a different name?" He asked. "Are you bestard, like Jon?"

"Who's that?" Myrcella whispered to her sister, but Elaena only shrugged.

"Rickon!" Robb chastised, and the little boy winced a bit. Robb then turned to her. "Please, my lady, he did not mean to offend you. He just turned three."

"Please, my lord." Elaena made an apologetic gesture. "You don't need to apologize." Then, the pretty girl addressed Rickon with a kind smile. "And no. I'm not anyone's natural child, little one. I just happen to be the daughter of our mother's first husband, while Tommen and Myrcella are from the second."

"Who's Jon?" Myrcella asked, again, this time to Sansa in a hushed manner. But Sansa did not seem to have heard it.

Instead Sansa asked. "Does that mean you're not Lady Velaryon?"

"No. My brother Monford is the lord of Driftmark, and his wife is the Lady."

"So you are a maiden?" Sansa pressed.

Robb had choked on the wine.

Elaena slowly nodded her head. Arya noticed that the girl blushed.

"Who is this Jon?" Myrcella wondered for the third time, this time she asked loudly.

"It's our brother." answered Arya.

"Half-brother." Sansa corrected. "He is the natural son of our father."

Arya glared at her sister. It was typical of her to correct me and shun Jon away. The young Stark girl was sure that Sansa was glad Jon was gone. Sansa hates imperfections, and Jon, in her eyes, was one.

"It would be Jon Snow, then. I mean, that's the surname they are given here in the north, isn't it?"

Robb, having recovered by now, nodded. "Yes, that's his name." He said and began fiddling with his cup. "So… How is it where you live?" He asked.

"Well..." Elaena began.

"It depends." Myrcella suddenly interrupted. "Casterly Rock is magnificent, and it has everything." She declared haughtily. "King's Landing is... charming, I suppose."

"Do you live at court, Elaena?" Sansa asked sweetly.

"I used to."

"Then you know the prince, surely."

"Yes. I do." Elaena's voice tightened.

"And how is he like?" Sansa asked.

"Gallant."

"And are you two... close?" Sansa pressed.

"I am not sure. I was close with the prince's sister, my lady."

"Princess Cassandra?"

"No, Princess Jocelyn." Elaena corrected. She seemed uncomfortable.

Arya wasn't sure if it was Sansa's constant questioning or the pitiful look on the girl's face that made her ask:

"Velaryon is a Valyrian house, right?"

"Yes." Elaena seemed more relieved. "Yes, it is." The girl gave Arya a thankful smile.

"It shows..." Robb said absently. But he quickly corrected himself. "I mean… You can tell by your hair." He blushed.

"I favoured my late father." The young maiden stroked her silvery braid. "But my hair is not as silver as Aurane's."

"Who's this Aurane?" Robb asked.

"Oh. That's my brother." She explained.

"Aurane Velaryon, then."

Elaena gave him an apologetic smile. "Not quite."

Arya looked at her quizzically. "How so? Is he–"

Elaena gave her braid a tug and her smile strained a little. "Yes. He is a bastard."

"I was going to say half-brother." Arya said, and gave Sansa a side-glance.

The Velaryon girl smiled at her.

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Arya's stitches were crooked again.

But today, she did not need to worry, for Septa Mordane was too busy tutoring their guests. She hardly paid attention to her.

She looked over to where her sister and the other girls. sat They were talking in hushed voices, whispering, and occasionally sneaking glances at Elaena and Myrcella.

"What are you talking about?" Arya asked them quietly as she leaned closer to listen better.

Jeyne gave Arya a startled look. "Should we tell her, Sansa?" She nudged her sister. Sansa only shrugged.

"Tell me." Arya insisted, and crawled over to them.

"It's about her." Jeyne subtly pointed to where Elaena was sitting.

"Elaena?" Arya asked, confused. "Why?"

"Because she's pretty." Answered little Beth Cassell.

"Why is that a problem?"

Beth shrugged uncertain.

But if Beth was uncertain, Sansa was not.

"How can you be so short-sighted?" She scolded her, now slightly angry. Sansa got closer to Arya and said in an even lower voice. "She is a maiden, highborn and rich... And as Beth said, too pretty."

"So what? Her mother is just as pretty, and highborn, and rich." Arya pointed out. They were able to see the woman when she brought her daughters to join them.

"Ugh." Sansa said in annoyance. "Lady Lannister is hardly a maiden. And besides, didn't you notice how Robb got when he saw her?"

Arya remembered. "Yes, he looked like an idiot."

"He was captivated." Sansa corrected her. "So much he could barely talk."

Arya rolled her eyes. "So? Why does that bother you?"

"It doesn't bother me." Sansa sounded offended. "It just... worries me."

Arya just stared at her sister in confusion.

"It's just that your sister is worried about the prince." Jeyne chimed in. "Since Robb and Prince Edric are the same age, the same thing could happen to him." The girl explained.

The realization hit her.

"Is this about what mother told you?" She asked Sansa.

Sansa had the grace to blush a little.

She just looked at her sister with disbelief. Shortly after receiving the news from King's Landing, their mother told them the king might be interested in making a betrothal between Sansa and the crown prince. Of course, Sansa took it for granted.

"Why does it worry you so much? The king is the one who chooses who the prince marries."

"King Jaehaerys, the conciliator, married the Good Queen Alysanne because they loved each other. King Aegon the Fortunate chose to marry Queen Betha, and three of their children broke betrothals so they could marry their chosen ones." Sansa recited. "There have been precedents."

Jeyne nodded. "Sansa is right."

Is she? Arya wondered. "You are exaggerating."

Sansa sniffed. "You just don't understand. As always."

"I understand." She replied and gave her sister a thin smile. "You are jealous."

"I am not." Sansa glared at her. "It's just that it's not fair; I am eleven, and she is fourteen. That's what troubles me. If I were just two years older, I wouldn't be so worried."

"So jealous, you mean." Arya snickered a bit.

"Arya. I am not jealous of Elaena Velaryon." Sansa was blushing now. "Stop saying that."

But Arya continued her teasing. "You are so jealous..."

"Arya!" Sansa said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room.

Septa Mordane raised her eyes to look at them. She was frowning at Sansa, Arya noted with satisfaction; she never frowned at Sansa. "What are you talking about, children?"

"Nothing important." Said Sansa, hastily.

"If that's so, you may as well join our guests." The septa said in a casual manner. But Arya knew it was anything but that. It was typical of Mordane; hide an order within a suggestion. The four young girls joined the septa and their guests and sat together. She noticed that the Velaryon girl was helping her sister with her stiches.

Sansa never help her.

She must have realized Arya was watching her because she turned to look at her. There was a mixture of confusion and interest on her pretty face.

Arya quickly glanced back to her needlework, wishing she hadn't been noticed by the older girl.

"I can help you." Elaena half-whispered. "With your stitches, I mean."

Arya looked at the girl and remained quiet. She didn't know what to say. Elaena, however, took her silent response as an affirmation and left her own sister behind to sit next to Arya.

"Can I see them?" She asked.

"Sure..." Arya replied, unsure, as she surrender up her work.

The Velaryon girl took it from her hands and began examining the fabric. "They are a bit crooked. But so were mine when I was your age." Elaena gave her the needlework back. "Could you—"

But they were interrupted before she could say anything else.

"Arya." Mordane called. "What are you doing?"

"I was helping her." Elaena answered.

The septa looked at the older girl. "You are very kind to do so my lady. But it is my duty to tutor these girls." And she turned to Arya. "Stop bothering the Lady Elaena, she is our guest."

"I was not." Arya objected.

But Mordane ignored her protest. "Let me see your work." And Arya begrudgingly handled her the fabric. The septa examined the fabric with keen judgement and began shaking her head. "No, no, no. This will not do, Arya. This will not do."

Arya flushed deep red. It was too much.

"If you need help you ask me for it, not our guest."

"But I did not!" She almost roared. She was just too frustrated.

"It's true." Elaena said meekly, but the septa took no notice of her gesture.

"Arya!" Septa Mordane exclaimed, scandalized. "How dare you scream like that? This is unacceptable."

Because you are a stubborn mule that doesn't listen! Arya wanted to scream, but that would only make the situation worse. The young girl pushed herself out of her chair and bolted for the door. She could no longer take this.

"Arya, come back here! Or your lady mother will hear of this." The septa warned, but she ignored her. Now it was too late.

She will hear regardless… Arya told herself and made her exit, running down the steps as fast as she could.

She found Nymeria waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs in the guardroom at the base of the tower. The direwolf bounded up to her feet as soon as she caught sight of her. Arya couldn't help but smile. Ever since Jon left for White Harbour, Nymeria has become her only companion. She hugged the wolfling tight.

"Come." She whispered to the direwolf. She got up and ran away from the tower, Nymeria trailing close behind.

But her escapade was short-lived. "And what do you think you are doing?"

And Arya knew she was in trouble, for that voice was her mother's.

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It was just not fair.

Arya concluded while stirring the broth with the spoon. While everyone is having a good time eating a delicious dinner, Arya finds herself alone locked in her bedroom with an insipid broth, a piece of bread, and a lot of homework from Mordane.

She turned to see everything she had to sew and sighed.

It was not fair.

The young Stark girl got up from the chair and went to the bedroom window. There all he could see was the steep roofs of Winterfell being dimly lit by the moonlight.

Suddenly, she heard the door open. Startled, Arya turned to see who it was: it was Sansa.

"What are you doing here?" Arya asked her sister.

Sansa closed the door behind her. "I came here to give you this." She handled her sister a lemon cake.

Arya eyed her sister with suspicion.

"Why?"

"I wanted to ask for a favour."

That picked Arya's interest. "And what do you think I can do? I have too much homework" She pointed to the pile of fabrics that needed to be sewn.

"I can do that… If you help me out." Sansa said.

"I'm listening."

Sansa gave her a furtive look. "I need you to spy Lady Elaena for me."

A bark of hysterical laughter burst from Arya's lips.

"Stop it!" Sansa said flustered.

"Oh, this is gold." She said after recovering some of her breath. "You really are jealous of her."

"Arya, I am NOT jealous of her."

"Sure Sansa…"

"Enough with that!" The older Stark girl spat. "If you keep this up, I'll leave, and you will be left to do all the homework Mordane gave you by yourself."

"I'm sorry, I'll stop." Arya raised her hands apologetically. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well… You can ask her questions about the prince and the royal family and court. Her intentions with the prince as well… Though for that you must earn her trust."

"How can I earn her trust?"

"I… am not sure. But Lady Elaena seems to like you; she asked about you during dinner." Sansa said.

Arya snorted. "She probably feels guilty. It was her fault that Septa Mordane got mad at me."

"If that's so then she might be more willing to confide in you." There was some uncertainty in her words.

Arya sighed and looked at the pile of all the needlework she has to do. "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

Sansa smiled. "We have a deal, then?"

Reluctantly, Arya nodded.

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DAENERYS

Daenerys laid in her bed as she recalled Doreah's story.

"Once there were two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and cracked from the heat. A thousand dragons poured forth, and drank the fire of the sun. That is why dragons breathe flame. One day the other moon will kiss the sun too, and then it will crack and the dragons will return."

She sighed and rose from her bed, her thighs and back still hurting from Drogo's bedding, and the uncomfortable sensation of her husband's dry seed begged for a hot bath. Daenerys ordered her handmaids to prepare a bath for her. Doreah built a fire outside the tent to heat up the water, while Irri and Jhiqui fetched the big copper tub from the packhorses and carried water from the pool. When the water was steaming, Irri helped her into it.

While Dany's bath was scalding hot, she did not flinch or cry. The heat was pleasant. It made her feel clean.

Doreah washed her hair and combed it out, working loose the mats and tangles. Jhiqui scented the water with oils; the steam rose moist and fragrant. Irri scrubbed her back to her womanhood to her feet. Through the soreness between her thighs, she felt the scalding water soak in. Her pain seemed to vanish. She floated.

When she was clean, her handmaids helped her out of the tub. They scented her hair and body with an exotic spice flower and applied the grease to her hair. They brought her back inside the tent to dress her in her riding leathers. Today the khalasar would ride again.

As her handmaidens worked a woman appeared on the entrance of her tent. It was Deedre, one of Rhaenys servants given to her by Illyrio.

"Princess Daenerys." The woman said in her raspy and monotonous voice. She couldn't be older than twenty, yet in spite of that, she looked awfully old. The Pentoshi woman had narrow and hollow cheeks, and her face had an unhealthy cast to it.

"Deedre." She acknowledged the woman.

"Queen Rhaenys invites you to break your fast together." The woman said.

"Thanks for notifying. You can tell my good sister that we'll be there." Daenerys said politely.

"Queen Rhaenys requested for you to come alone, princess." The way Deedre stared disturbed her.

The Pentoshi woman gave a courtly bow and left.

"I not like her, Khaleesi." Irri whispered. "I not trust her, Khaleesi, not, not."

Me neither, Irri… Me neither. Dany thought, thinking of the unusual manner of the Pentoshi servant.

But what could she do?

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"Sister!" Rhaenys rose from her seat (a large feather cushion) when she saw her. Her good sister wore copper jewellery and a blue-green dress in the dornish style that hung in her tall willowy frame. She looked very beautiful. The young queen looked at Dany from head to toe with a strained smile. "I see that you are wearing your riding leathers, again."

Dany almost sighed. She knew this might happen. "Forgive me, sister, but today we ride."

"Ah, yes, I remember now." Rhaenys said as she went for her seat. "I am so glad you came; it has been so long since we've done anything."

It's been two weeks. Dany wanted to say. "Where is Viserys?" She asked instead as she sat on the other cushion.

She sneered. "He is with Mormont and Maegor. Your brother decided to play the king today and is giving his only two knights some useless instructions."

"How is he?" Dany asked.

She looked puzzled. "Who?"

"Maegor." She clarified.

"Why do you ask?" Rhaenys questioned back, almost in disbelief.

"I haven't seen him in a while." Not since you took him away almost two weeks ago… Dany may have added.

"Oh." A small smirk appeared in her good sister's face. "If I do say so myself, our cousin is being doing better than ever." She took a dainty sip of her tea. Your brother plans to make him his first Kingsguard. It was my idea, of course."

"Really? Good for him." Dany said, glad.

"Yes." She raised the cup of tea. "But better for us!" Then she drank from it and gave a little moan. "I swear, Deedre's tea is the best. You should try it, sister."

Dany ignored the last bit. "What do you mean that it's better for us?"

Rhaenys waved her off. "Oh please, you know what I mean."

"I don't." She insisted.

The queen rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't…" She muttered to herself and sighed. "Our dear cousin descents from the line of Aerion Brightflame. Therefore, by Andal law and tradition, his line should have sat the Iron Throne instead of ours." Rhaenys explained.

Dany was confused. "But his family never tried to usurp us before, why is that a problem? Why would he do that now? And wasn't Aerion Brightflame mad?"

"You…" Rhaenys gave her a strange look. "It has been many years and. People forget, Dany." She seemed hesitant, but after a moment of silence her good sister shrugged. "Anyways, I didn't ask you to come here and talk about our dear cousin." The young queen ran her hand through her lustrous dark hair.

"You didn't." Dany conceded. "You wanted to break our fast together."

"Of course…" Rhaenys gave her a sweet smile that did not reach her eyes. "But I also wanted to ask for a favour."

"What is it, pray tell?"

"I need one of your handmaidens, the Lysene girl, for some weeks." She played with a black lock of her. "Would you do me that kindness?"

"Why do you want Doreah?" Dany asked and shifted nervously in her seat.

But Rhaenys ignored the question. "If you really need a third handmaiden I can personally leant you one of my own."

"That–"

But her good sister cut her off. "Loreen!" She called for the servant. "Loreen!"

The young handmaid arrived immediately behind Rhaenys. "My queen. You called for me. What can I do for you." Daenerys thought she looked way too eager, almost desperate.

"Sweet Loreen, I wanted to ask if you would mind serving Daenerys for a couple of weeks." Rhaenys asked the girl.

"I would!" The girl said excitedly. "If it so pleases my queen." And gave Dany a sweet smile.

"But Doreah–"

"Is a very trusted friend of yours, I am sure…" Rhaenys interrupted her, again. "But I've known Loreen since I was a child. She's loyal and dutiful; you can trust her with anything, sister. You need not to worry." She glanced at the handmaiden.

Loreen blushed a little and gave a courtesy. "My queen is kind."

"Rhaenys." Dany interjected. "I have no doubts about Loreen's loyalty."

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow. "So?"

But before Dany could say anything, Deedre's raspy, monotone voice filled the tent.

"Your graces. The khalasar has started to ride."

I'm late! Daenerys thought alarmed and quickly rose to her feet. "Thank you Rhaenys, but I cannot give you an answer right now."

"Daenerys! Are you going to think about it?!"

Dany turned to look at her. She is desperate… "Yes. I'll have an answer by tomorrow morning." And the young Khaleesi left the tent.

I need some peace.

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If there was anything Dany enjoyed the most it was riding her silver: the filly Drogo gifted her in their wedding. The silver-grey filly moved with a smooth and silken gait, following every command. Dany felt one with the horse.

She felt free.

As Dany made her way through the column of the khalasar, she saw Maegor alone, travelling back on horseback down a hill. He looked defeated, almost upset, and Dany had her own suspicions as to why.

One of Viserys' useless instructions… Dany thought remembering Rhaenys' words.

"Maegor!" She called him. The young knight halted immediately and looked towards her. Dany, in turn, approached the young man. He was dressed in black roughspun tunic with the dragon of the Targaryens embroidered in scarlet thread.

"Khaleesi." Maegor nodded in recognition as she arrived by his side.

"I haven't seen you in a while now." She told him.

"Oh, yeah." He scratched the scar on his cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to be like this. But–"

"Don't worry." Dany cut him off. "So… How have you been? How is your new job treating you?" She tried to sound playful.

"It's… fine. Though nothing exciting; I am just one guard in the middle of the largest khalasar in the world." Maegor blushed a little and smiled. He had a smile that lit up his otherwise solemn visage. And even though solemn, Dany had to admit that he was rather handsome.

He looks like a knight, a Dragonknight, Dany mused remembering the stories Viserys used to tell her about the great knight. He will one day become Viserys' Kingsguard too…

"And what about you?" Maegor then asked.

"Good. It's been good, and every day gets better." Dany said trying to sound earnest. "Actually, today I broke my fast with Rhaenys." She ran her hand over her oiled hair; the heat of the sun had melted all traces of solid grease. "It was… eventful, I suppose you could say." Dany told him. "She asked me if we could switch one of our handmaids."

He seemed taken aback. "What? Who?"

"She asked me if Doreah could swap places with Loreen for a while." She clarified. "Why do you think she asked?"

Maegor scratched the scar on his cheek. "I am not sure."

"Mmm…" Dany uttered, and there was an awkward silence.

"I must leave, Khaleesi." He gave her an apologetic smile. "I am to guard Queen Rhaenys."

"Of course." Dany returned the smile. "You must do your duty, Dragonknight."

Maegor looked at her intently, and for a moment, he seemed to be about to say something, but he didn't, and left without saying a word.

What's wrong with him? Dany wondered. As for late, everyone has been acting strange, and she could not fathom why.

Dany shook those thoughts away and started galloping her way on top of the ridge, passing everyone in the khalasar ahead. After leaving everyone behind and arriving on top, Dany halted her horse and met one of the most wonderful views.

An immense flat expanse of grassland stretched to the distant horizon. It was a sea. Dany thought. There were no hills, mountains, trees, nor cities, just grass.

At some point Ser Jorah just had reached her side. "The Dothraki sea." He said.

And left her thoughts behind her. She will enjoy this moment. She will not let anyone spoil it.

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A.N: Sorry for the delay. I've had to write and rewrite this chapter 10 times before I came up with something decent.

In fact, at one point, I even thought about eliminating all (Chapter 3) this job and starting from scratch with another POV (Elaena and Maegor's, probably) and skipping certain events like the arrival at Winterfell and the exchange of servants. But after thinking about it Well, I decided to keep them.

Also, in case you didn't notice, I changed the name of Monford's Wife/Monterys' Mother to "Alyssa". I know it's a minor detail, but I thought I had to address it at least.

Reviews/Comments motivate me to write more! So please R&R