Authors' Note/Disclaimer: Just a warning to my readers, this chapter deals with several touchy topics such as homosexuality, religion, and sexism. If you feel like you will be offended, I apologize in advance, but such was the mindset of the characters as portrayed in the TV show, Game of Thrones, as well as the original authors' intentions of GRRM and Bethesda. Now that that warning is out of the way, I hope you truly enjoy this chapter!

Turdas, the 6th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10

Temple of the Divines, King's Landing

The Temple of the Divines was located in the new, aptly-named Temple District, at the top of Visenya's Hill. Many of the expatriates from Tamriel lived there, due to the proximity to the temple. The district, and the temple itself, was close to the Great Sept of Baelor, and so there was some tension when the Temple of the Divines was first built. But after some time, those fears and tensions were allayed. The temple was a pretty large building with nine small wings, each one branching off of the main foyer, and each one was dedicated to a Divine. Nakos, accompanied by several members of his royal guard, entered the Temple with Nesaerys and Alesan. The people in the foyer bowed as Nakos passed by them and he took time to speak with them for a few moments.

As they walked past the wing dedicated to Dibella, Nakos bit his tongue to keep himself from smiling as they heard moans of pleasure coming from the wing. Even Jaime sneaked a peek inside as they walked past and Alesan covered Nesaerys' ears.

"Tyrion would have a good time here," Jaime jested.

"Or Bronn," Brienne replied with the smallest of smiles.

"Make sure they don't find out about this place," Nakos said. "This Divine in particular."

"I think it's a bit late for that," Mjoll nodded towards the wing. They looked to see a familiar face sitting down, a priestess of Dibella sitting on his lap. "Well, at least he's learning something. Dibella is the god of erotic instruction, after all."

They continued and passed the wing dedicated to Mara, where they could see several weak people were lying on slabs, as priestesses stood over them slowly healing them. It was still a strange sight to Jaime and Brienne for them to see healing magic at work, despite having seen it for almost ten years. They said nothing, though, and followed Nakos as he made his way to the wing dedicated to Stendarr, god of mercy, justice, and righteousness and patron of all those who wield righteous might to protect the weak. As king of Westeros, he would need guidance to help those in need. Nakos knelt in front of the shrine to Stendarr and closing his eyes, whispered his prayer.

"Why couldn't we go to the Great Sept and pray?" Nesaerys asked in a hushed whisper so as not to bother the other patrons.

"Because those gods didn't help during the War," Alesan answered quickly. "It was the Nine that did. Even Akatosh himself came down and made our father his avatar for a moment to defeat Mehrunes Dagon."

"Do the people know that?" Jaime asked.

"Some think it was Nakos himself," Mjoll replied, "while others think it was the Father who helped him. Of course, we from Tamriel think it was Akatosh, and those that were with him, like me, know the truth. I saw it myself. A gold dragon, like the legends of old. The Divines helped while the Seven did nothing."

"Careful now," Jaime smirked. "If someone else heard you, you could be arrested for heresy."

"Let them try," Mjoll said with a smirk, and tapping the hilt of her dragonbone longsword.

Jaime chuckled. "A woman after my own heart."

"Besides, having differing beliefs was never against the law," Alesan interjected. "Matters of faith is not a reason to punish someone. The only exceptions are things like rituals that demand mortal suffering or sacrifice, like some kinds of Daedra worship."

"Or the Lord of Light," Brienne added. "I heard that Stannis Baratheon burned a few people at the stake because they followed the Faith of the Seven and not his religion. Anyway, from what I've seen since Nakos arrived here, I think your gods have done more for us than either religions of Westeros… or any of the hundreds of religions on this side of the world."

"Should I expect you to be changing religion anytime soon, Lady Brienne?" Nakos asked opening his eyes.

"Your Grace," Brienne stammered a bit, earning a snicker from Mjoll. "I thought you were praying."

"I was," Nakos smirked, "but that doesn't mean I wasn't listening, either."

Brienne cleared her throat. "I… honestly don't know. The Seven have been my faith, the faith of my father, and his father before him. But I have not seen the Seven do anything. Your Divines on the other hand…" She didn't need to finish his thought as they all knew where she was going. "I would like to know that when I pray, the gods are listening, but praying to another man's gods? I don't even know if they'd listen."

"There's no harm in trying," said Nakos.

"Who is to say that they are not one and the same anyway?" Alesan said suddenly. "I sometimes think that it's people who create the differences in what we believe, not the gods themselves."

The young Redguard's words made them silent for a moment and they all exchanged glances of admiration. "We should head back," Nakos said and the group began to make their way back. As they passed by Mara's shrine, Nesaerys looked up at it. It was of a woman, her head looking up, eyes closed, and arms outstretched. She seemed to be wearing a robe and an amulet around her neck. Nakos watched his daughter's violet eyes glow in admiration.

"This is Mara?" Nesaerys asked.

"It is," Nakos placed his hands on both of her shoulders. "The goddess of love." He chuckled when he saw her blush. "Someone on your mind, Nesy?"

"What? No!" She turned a darker shade of red.

"It's fine, Nesaerys," Nakos patted her shoulders and knelt so he was eye level with her. "I'm not mad at you. Who were you thinking about?" He knew the answer already, but wanted to hear her say it.

"Eddard Stark," Nesaerys said finally.

"Awww, my sister is in love," Alesan teased.

"And so are you, Alesan," Nakos said with a smirk. "Don't think I haven't noticed you looking at Shireen Baratheon. She's looked at you too… and I hear you two have stolen off into the godswood on more than one occasion."

Alesan tried to speak, but all that came out was mumbles.

The Royal Guards laughed aloud. "Nothing escapes your father, does it?" Jaime chuckled. "I just hope you didn't... defile that place. Some of us do need to pray there."

Alesan stammered even more as sweat began to pour from his forehead and he hid his face in embarrassment. Nakos shook his head. "You've embarrassed the poor boy," he quipped with a smile.

"He should learn to be more discreet," Jaime said with a shrug and another chuckle.

The large wooden doors to the chapel creaked open, and another member of the Royal Guard, Farkas, approached, followed by a monk of sorts, dressed in rough-spun robes. "Your Grace, you have a visitor from the sect of the Seven called the Sparrows."

Nakos took note of the young man. His hair was blond, but it was cut short and close to his head. His whole demeanor seemed very calm. There was no nervousness in his body at all, and that was somewhat puzzling to Nakos, seeing that many people who came before royalty, whether it was Nakos, Joffrey, or Dany, showed some kind of fear.

"Well, well," Jaime looked the man up and down. "Lancel Lannister."

"Brother Lancel," the young man corrected. "We leave our family names behind."

"Quite a family to abandon," Nakos replied. "I assume you're related to Jaime."

"Cousin," Lancel replied flatly and simply, with the slightest of a nod.

"What can I do for you, Brother Lancel?"

"I bring a message from the High Sparrow," the younger Lannister answered. "He wishes to meet with you."

Nakos raised an eyebrow slightly. "Regarding?"

Lancel only shrugged. "That would be between him and you."

"In other words, you don't know," Mjoll quipped.

Lancel only glanced at Mjoll, but did not speak to her. "Do you accept the invitation, Your Grace?"

Nakos offered a small smile. "Tell the High Sparrow I accept his invitation and will meet with him tomorrow."

"Should I set up a meeting point?" Lancel asked, but Nakos shook his head. "Where will he find you?"

"No need. I'll find him."

Later that day...

Brynjolf's heart skipped a beat when he read the report from across the Narrow Sea. He read the message from his spy at least five times to make sure what he was reading was actually there. It did not seem real. When he read the message one last time, he put the parchment down on his desk and looked at a little girl who was in the room with him. "Find the king and tell him to meet me." She ran off to find Nakos.

Varys, who was sitting across from Brynjolf, picked up the parchment and read it. He took in a sharp breath, but said nothing at the moment. He looked up at Brynjolf. "This does not bode well," he said finally.

"You think?" Brynjolf grumbled. "If word of this gets out, then Nakos is in real trouble, if not direct danger."

"Would the Dark Brotherhood actually do something like this without Nakos' say?" Varys asked. "Perhaps they were hired to kill the Sealord by someone else."

"Unlikely," Brynjolf replied. He and Delvin knew the Dark Brotherhood well enough to know how they operated. "To hire the Dark Brotherhood requires the ritual of the Black Sacrament. The Night Mother then relays the information to the Listener, which is Nakos, and he then sends a speaker to obtain the contract from the one who performed the ritual. All the Dark Brotherhood contracts are done this way, so Nakos would have known if this were the case."

"And I assume not many people here in Westeros know how to perform this ritual," Varys sighed. "So either you have a rogue assassin… or someone is framing the Dark Brotherhood."

"Either way, Nakos would have to deal with this and soon…" Brynjolf paused, biting his lower lip in amusement. "And you're standing in the shadows listening, aren't you?"

A chuckle came from a dark corner. "Maybe."

"Dammit, I hate it when you do that," Brynjolf grumbled, though he was smiling.

Nakos chuckled as he stepped from the shadows. "Never gets old, does it?" His face then became serious. "I can see why you wouldn't want the Royal Council knowing this."

"The fact that you run both a powerful guild of assassins and thieves is not something that should be tied to you in a public light," Varys said. "Whoever is responsible for this may either know you are linked to them, or they are using their association to Tamriel, and thus you, to discredit you."

"That's a very short list," Nakos replied. "Everyone I know who knows about this association is either dead or on my side, and the ones on my side I trust with my life. They have no reason to discredit me."

Brynjolf then stroked his beard. "I would suggest re-examining some of them, then. It wouldn't be the first time either the Thieves Guild or the Dark Brotherhood have had a mole infiltrate the ranks."

Nakos remembered Mercer Frey from the Thieves Guild and Astrid from the Dark Brotherhood. "Varys, I'm sure you can look into this. Find out if there is a mole in either or both of my organizations… or amongst your little birds."

"Of course, Your Grace," Varys said, with a bow of his head.

"Meanwhile," Brynjolf continued, "we should also look at external factors. Did Sealord Maeros receive any unusual guests?"

"Not that we know of," answered Varys, "But I would suggest sending some of our own to investigate. They may be able to find something."

"Not to mention all these random revolts and fanatical leaders rising up in Essos," Nakos thought aloud. "These events could be connected."

"Agreed," said Brynjolf. "Do you want me to go, Your Grace?"

Nakos shook his head. "I need you here, my friend, on the Royal Council. Besides, the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild will have more than enough volunteers," he stood to his feet. "I will ask them for their assistance." He began to leave, but Varys' question stopped him.

"Why not bring them here? You don't trust me, Your Grace?"

"I do, Varys," Nakos answered, "but many of them may not. I think they'd prefer anonymity and would not want their identities known. Anonymity is the entire point of being a thief or assassin. I'm sure you would not let anyone know who your 'little birds' are, no matter you who trust."

Varys looked at Brynjolf and nodded. "True."

"Keep me informed," Nakos said as he walked out the door and made his way towards the Black Cells. They were aptly named because they were always kept in pitch darkness. One needed a lit torch or lantern in order to navigate through the darkness, or if you were from Tamriel, a Magelight or Candlelight spell. Nakos decided to use a Candlelight spell, which followed him as he walked through the darkness.

When he was sure he was alone, he gave a sharp whistle and nine people stepped out. A few of them wore the garb of the Thieves Guild while others wore the Dark Brotherhood armor. The light from the Candlelight spell barely reached them, so Nakos cast a Magelight onto the ceiling. He smiled when he saw a few familiar faces. "Karliah. Babette."

The Dunmer started to bow, but Nakos stopped her. "No need for that. When I'm here, I'm simply Nakos, Guildmaster and Listener."

"Still," Karliah said. "You're still our King. You deserve to be treated like one."

"Come, come, Karliah," Babette chuckled, her fangs gleaming. "If Nakos doesn't want to be bowed to, it's best not to push it."

Nakos took note of the rest of the people present, and then noticed that one person was absent. He heard a dagger fall from its sheath, and smirked. Quick as a fox, he ducked as the dagger sliced through the air where his head had once been. Drawing the Blade of Woe from the sheath on his ankle, he countered a jab of his own at the attacker's abdomen, but it was blocked. The attacker kicked at Nakos' head, but again Nakos dodged it. He went for a slice, but that too was blocked. His attacker this time went for a knee to his face, but Nakos rolled backwards to his feet.

"Listener," said his attacker, twirling the dagger.

Nakos chuckled. "Arya."

The playful spar continued for a moment with a flurry of attempted slashes, jabs, attacks, and counter-attacks. To the rest, no one seemed to gain the upper hand. But Nakos could have easily ended the fight if he wanted to. He was having some fun with her. After a moment, they circled each other. Nakos remained patient as Arya stepped forward with a backhanded slash. Nakos stopped the attack by blocking her forearm with his own. Using her own momentum against her, Nakos brought her arm in a clockwise motion and stepping forward, placed her in an arm lock. He placed the Blade of Woe at her neck.

"You've improved," Nakos smirked. "But I'm still better."

"I tried," Arya said with a shrug.

"Keep practicing," Nakos said as he sheathed his dagger. "Although your skill could probably match any ordinary foe you may face, it's always good to keep improving if you can. I know I don't want to get rusty in my old age."

"Now that we're all here," Babette said, "to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Nakos' face became grim. "The Sealord of Braavos, Maeros, has been killed, and it appears whoever killed him is trying to frame the Dark Brotherhood." The silence at the news was palpable. "Whoever killed Maeros left incriminating evidence: a black handprint on a parchment." There were murmurs at that. "Whoever did this knows of our methods. I want them stopped, caught and interrogated. And I want them brought to me. We need to find out who they are and what they really know." Nakos then turned to Arya. "You, Arya, will take a team to Braavos, link up with the Faceless Men, and get to the bottom of this."

The young Stark girl's eyes went wide. "Me?"

Nakos nodded. "You."

Arya was taken aback at first, but quickly composed herself. "Of course, Listener. Who should I take with me?"

"That, I leave to you." Nakos smiled slightly. "You are old enough, and experienced enough now for this, Arya."

Arya looked her fellow members over. "Karliah?"

The Nightingale Dunmer shook her head. "I am required to run the day to day operations of the Thieves Guild. But I have a few candidates for you to pick from for this mission." She indicated a few members. She pointed a pair of Nords. "Kirstina and Morgen. Go with Arya."

"But they're thieves," Arya huffed. "I'll need assassins with me as well."

Karliah smirked, "Didn't bother you when I was training you, Arya."

"True, but I started with the Dark Brotherhood, and I'd feel comfortable with a knife in my hand."

This time, it was Babette who smirked. "Though I'd love to go with you, I don't think vampires would be welcome, and with the sun shining, I wouldn't survive long. But I do know some fellow brothers and sisters who would love to accompany you." She looked to three other assassins. "Cassius. Jak. Camaron."

Two Imperials and a Redguard walked forward. They were all around Arya's age, in their early twenties. "Finally," the Redguard boomed. "I thought I would always be stuck on this side of the Narrow Sea."

"Well, here's your chance, Camaron," Nakos replied. "Just don't do anything reckless."

"I'll keep an eye on him, Listener." Arya quipped as she looked over the five other assassins. "So, I assume I'm in charge of all of you, then."

Nakos nodded. "You are the ranking member in both guilds, Arya. Make sure you take good care of your team, and you may all come home alive."

Arya sighed. "I suppose Lucien will be taking us."

Nakos shook his head. "Braavos is only about a week's journey by ship. Talk to Lord Theon. He should have a ship for you. But you should leave as soon as possible. The faster we get to the bottom of this, the better." Nakos handed her a sealed letter, containing his official seal and orders for the Faceless Men.

Arya nodded as she took the letter before she and her team disappeared into the darkness of the Black Cells.

Both Karliah and Babette turned to Nakos. "Are you sure it is wise to put so much faith in her, Listener?" Babette said. "She is still very new and headstrong."

"Agreed, Karliah added. "She has her own preset determination and ways of doing things, Nakos."

Nakos shook his head. "I see great potential with Arya. She may be one who can simultaneously reach the ranks of Speaker and Master Thief before long. But, in order for her to gain command level experience, she needs to be tested in field command missions like this. She and the team she has chosen are all young, but gifted. I would say we need to give the little birds a chance to grow their wings and learn to fly like eagles." He then turned to the two most senior members of both guilds. "That doesn't mean we are not going to back them up, if need be. But for now, I need teams assembled for other areas. There are other events that concern me in Essos."

Fredas, the 7th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10

Red Keep, King's Landing

Nesaerys, Daenerys, and Rhaelor were in the main courtyard of the Red Keep as nobles walked past and several of the Royal Guard waited nearby. Nesaerys was sparring with Athis, a Dunmer, former member of the Companions, and member of the City Watch. Rhaelor and Daenerys, meanwhile, sat at a nearby table. Rhaelor was reading a book, looking up every once in a while to watch his sister. Nesaerys wanted to spar with her brother, but Rhaelor wanted otherwise. "Sorry, Nesy," he had said, "but I'm not want to spar today."

Truth be told, he was not that interesting in learning to fight at all. Though he did train with Athis, he spent most of his time in the library with Tyrion Lannister and Giraud Gemane, the former Dean of History at the Bard's College in Solitude. Giraud was now the head librarian in the Red Keep. Unlike Nesaerys, who liked to fight with swords and weapons, Rhaelor preferred to read and study. Nesaerys teased him that he was more like Tyrion, but he took it as a compliment. "A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone, little lord," Tyrion had told Rhaelor once while they read in the library and Rhaelor seemed to take that to heart.

Rhaelor looked up from his book, The Real Barenziah, and watched for a moment as Nesaerys circled Athis. Nesaerys was armed with an ebony sword and was on the offensive, keeping up the pressure. But Athis easily parried each strike with his sword. Nesaerys yelled out and ran forward with a hard overhead swing. Athis held up his blade horizontally to block the downward swing. Taking a step to Nesaerys' outside, he flicked his wrist around, bringing the blade around, and hit her back with the flat of his blade.

"You're telegraphing your moves too much, Lady Nesaerys," Athis rebuked. "I know what you're going to do before you do it."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Nesaerys asked in frustration.

"Be more subtle, and don't try too hard. Focus more on your opponent and a little more on the defensive rather than going on the offensive."

"How?"

"It is important to pay attention to the motions in your opponent's actions," Athis explained, "Those motions can be anything, even something as small as a small rotation of the sword hand before a swing. They can include obvious movements, such as leaning into each step before swinging, or things less obvious, such as a slight weight shift that indicates a step will be taken with the back foot. Any of these can provide the evidence to tell you what your opponent's next move will be, and this can help you to start your defense or counter-attack before your opponent actually starts to perform the attack itself."

Nesaerys sighed. "Fine." She was obviously frustrated.

"Would you like to go again?" Athis asked.

"Do I have a choice?" Nesaerys asked with a shrug.

"You do," Athis said with a small smile. "If you're angry or frustrated, you won't learn much." Nesaerys thought for a moment, and nodded. The two of them sparred again, but Athis won again .

"I don't know why you're sparring now, Nesy," Rhaelor said, going back to his book. "We have visitors and you don't want to be all sweaty and smelly if they walk past."

Nesaerys looked at her brother in surprise. "Visitors?"

Daenerys chuckled. "You should start paying more attention, Nesaerys. The Starks are here in King's Landing, including Lord Robb's son, Eddard."

"Ned?" Nesaerys replied in a surprised whisper, running over to her mother and brother. "I thought he went home after my Nameday festivals were all done!"

Dany shook her head. "He and his family remained behind for the past few days." Of course, she didn't say the reason for why they had stayed behind, and her lips curled into a smirk when she saw Nesaerys blush. "I've seen the way you and Lord Eddard have looked at each other, and don't think your Father hasn't noticed it, either."

"You like Eddard?" Rhaelor asked and laughed.

Nesaerys ignored him. "You think Father is planning a marriage between our houses?"

"He would not force you to marry someone you're not in love with," Dany answered, "unlike the rest of the people here in Westeros, who only marry for political reasons. Not to mention you're both only ten years old. If you both still like each other in a few years, maybe you will marry."

"Maybe," Nesaerys replied softly.

"You don't think you would?"

"You said it yourself. I'm only ten years old. Who knows how I would feel five or ten years from now…" Nesaerys' voice trailed off.

Dany noticed Nesaerys was not looking at her, but past her. Dany followed her gaze to see Eddard Stark walking towards them, flanked by guards. Rhaelor and Nesaerys both quickly stood to their feet and bowed.

"Lord Eddard," Nesaerys said, her voice a whisper.

"Lady Nesaerys," Eddard said with a smile. "Lord Rhaelor." He bowed to Dany. "Your Grace."

"Lord Eddard," Dany said, "What brings you here?"

"I actually wanted to speak with Lady Nesaerys, if that's alright."

Dany stole a glance and a smirk at Nesaerys. "Of course. Come, Rhaelor." She winked at Nesaerys and walked off, three Royal Guards walking beside her.

Neither child said anything for a moment, but stared at each other. Finally, they laughed. "It's a… surprise to see you, Lord Eddard," Nesaerys said.

"That's what I was hoping for," Eddard said. "Would you walk with me, my lady?"

Nesaerys nodded fervently. "Of course, my lord." They began make their way towards the gardens, escorted by both of their guards.

"Your father is a good man, Lady Nesaerys," Eddard began. "Without his help, I wouldn't be here. He saved my parents' life, as well as the life of my grandmother."

"So I have heard," Nesaerys replied, "Though from what I've heard, it was a Dark Brotherhood assassin that murdered the Freys."

"And for that I am grateful," Eddard replied, eliciting a wide-eyed glance from Nesaerys.

"From what Mjoll tells me, your father wasn't very happy with that."

"I am not my father, Lady Nesaerys. My father has his honor, true. But his honor nearly got him killed. Who am I to argue how my life was saved? I thank the old gods and the new every day that I am here, no matter the method."

You should thank Sithis, Nesaerys thought to herself before talking aloud again. "I agree. I know there are times when sticking to your honor is not the best choice, especially here in Westeros. If my father had done so, I doubt many of his allies, or even him, would be alive right now."

"You have a point," Eddard said and they walked for a moment. They soon arrived at the gardens, which had a good amount of people in it, both humans and non-humans. "Do you have any plans or dreams to visit your father's homeland?" Eddard asked as he looked with wonder at the elves and Argonians.

Nesaerys chuckled. "Hammerfell or Skyrim?"

Eddard glanced at her. "Hammerfell?"

"The homeland of the Redguards," she explained. "There are nine provinces of Tamriel, and each race hails from each province. My father is a Redguard and so his homeland is Hammerfell."

"What are the other provinces?" Eddard asked.

"Cyrodiil is the center and capital of the Empire, and home of the Imperial race. Black Marsh is home to the Argonians. Elsweyr is composed of the deserts and jungles to the south of Cyrodiil and is home to the Khajiit." At Eddard's confused look, Nesaerys chuckled and pointed to one. "The cat people. Hammerfell is home to the Redguards. High Rock is home to the Bretons. Morrowind is home to the Dunmer, the dark elves. Skyrim is home to the Nords. Summerset Isle actually refers to several islands to the southwest of Cyrodiil across the Abecean Sea and is home to the Altmer, the high elves. Valenwood is home to the Bosmer, or the wood elves."

"So many races," Eddard mused, somewhat to himself, but loud enough to be heard.

"Imagine being in Tamriel. There are even more elves, orcs, Argonians, and Khajiit there than there are here."

"Your country worships nine gods, right?" the young Stark boy asked.

Nesaerys nodded. "And you worship seven."

"Do you think that would ever be a problem for our countries, now that there is a temple of your faith here?"

"I would hope not. My father has worked too hard for there to be tension between our countries now." They soon arrived at one of the larger water fountains and took a seat on the nearby stone bench, looking out over Blackwater Bay.

"Is this your first time in King's Landing?" Nesaerys asked finally.

"No," Eddard answered. "I've been here before, or so my dad says. I don't remember being here myself. It is a nice city, though."

"I've heard it was worse when my father first came here almost thirteen years ago."

"I've heard the same," Eddard replied. "What about you? Have you ever left King's Landing?"

Nesaerys shook her head. "Unfortunately, no."

Eddard smiled. "Would you like to?"

Nesaerys' eyes widened in surprise. "Are you suggesting…"

"I am. If your father would allow it, my father and I would like to take you to visit Winterfell."

Nesaerys was speechless at first. "For how long?"

"Only a few days. Or perhaps a few weeks."

"A few weeks?"

"You may find you like it there."

Nesaerys started to blush again. "I'd… like to. Let me ask my father first."

"Of course," Eddard bowed. "I would not want you to make a decision without your parents' say. Just let me know what they say." He took Nesaerys' hand and kissed it. "It would be nice to have you there, my lady." With a bow, Eddard walked away.

Nesaerys watched him leave, her violet eyes glowing. But then she heard familiar giggling and turned to see Sofie and Lyla Westerling, her handmaiden.

"How long were you two listening?" Nesaerys huffed.

"Long enough," Sofie said between laughs and sat by her sister. "Lord Eddard wants you to go to Winterfell?"

Nesaerys looked back towards the direction where Eddard had left. She could just see him turning the corner. "He does, and I would love to go there. I hear the North is like Skyrim. I may not ever see Skyrim, so this is as close as I will get."

Sofie embraced her sister. "I'm sure you would enjoy it, Nesy."

Nesaerys' eyes gleamed mischievously. "I'm sure you have your eye on someone."

"Pssh," Sofie only waved her hand in dismissal, "If I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"But I may," Lyla teased, a playful smirk on her lips.

Sofie glared daggers at her handmaiden. "Don't you dare."

"Who is it?" Nesaerys asked gleefully.

"It's…" Lyla started before Sofie slapped a hand over her handmaiden's mouth.

"No, you don't!" Sofie growled out.

"Is it Bran or Rickon?" Nesaerys asked, and the look her sister gave her told her no. "Fine," Nesaerys shrugged and stood. "I'll ask Brynjolf or Varys. I'm sure they know." With that, she ran off giggling.

"No!" Sofie called out as she chased Nesaerys around the garden for a few moments before finally catching her and playfully restraining her. "You'll never find out!"

"I want to know!" Nesaerys retorted, trying to wrestle free from her older sister's grasp.

"You will, but not today," Sofie replied, finally releasing Nesaerys.

"Does Father even know?"

"No," Lyla replied before Sofie could stop her. "Neither your father or mother know. Perhaps they deserve to know." Now it was her eyes that gleamed with mischief.

"Don't make me chase you," Sofie hissed.

Lyla put on a look of fake indignation. "You wouldn't order me not to tell the King and Queen themselves, would you Sofie?"

Sofie glared at her. "Seeing as I am their daughter, and I am a princess, I would."

Lyla would not relent, still smirking. "But they deserve to know. They are the King and Queen, after all. Besides, I had orders from them: if anything was ever wrong or a danger to you, I have to tell them. I think this boy is a 'danger' to you, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, at least it's a boy," Nesaerys joked, earning a glare from her sister.

Sofie glared at both girls, before groaning in frustration. "I hate you both."

Nesaerys chuckled. "I hate you, too."

Sofie stood and groaned again when she saw who was walking towards them. "Lady Cersei." She gave a shallow bow, having heard plenty of stories of what she had done.

If Cersei Lannister had any opinion to Sofie's dissenting action, she did not react to it. She only bowed her head to each young woman. "Lady Sofie. Lady Nesaerys. Lady Lyla."

"What brings you here, my lady?" Sofie asked, a hint of indignation in her voice.

Cersei looked about them into the gardens. "Reliving old times," came Cersei's somber response. "I once walked these very gardens daily when I was Queen Regent. I see it hasn't changed much, aside from the strange fellows."

"The city has changed," Sofie replied. "And for the better."

"I know. Many seem to believe so. But I've heard there are some dissenters I don't think you need to worry about that, though. Not with your all-powerful father as King." Cersei smiled at that, and the young women could tell that the last line was meant to be sarcastic.

"My father has done more than either of your sons had done when they were king," Nesaerys huffed in annoyance, knowing that Cersei was trying to play them.

"I admit that he has," Cersei said softly, ignoring the jibe the young girl sent her way. "But we should not dwell on the past, my ladies. What was done was done. We have a bright future to look forward to."

"A bright future for who, exactly?" Sofie asked warily. "Westeros… or you?"

Cersei chuckled. "Why so suspicious of me, Lady Sofie?"

"I've heard stories of what you did."

"And you believe them?"

"When they come from my father, I do."

Cersei said nothing for a moment. "I can assure you, my banishment has changed my perspective. The Crone came to me with her lamp held high and shown me my sins. I prayed to the Father for him to absolve me of my sins, and I hope your father and you can do the same to me."

Nesaerys and Sofie exchanged a quick glance. "Perhaps," Sofie said. "I am not ready to trust you just yet."

Cersei did not reply to her comment. "As I said, we have a bright future to look forward to. Many changes have come to Westeros since your father became king. He rebuilt the Royal Council to its former glory, created the Royal Guard, and the City Watch. Your uncle Avik became Lord of the Crownlands and married Lady Brienne of Tarth. They have a daughter, Jasmyne. My brother Tyrion married Shae, despite her not being of royal birth, and they have a daughter, Ilyana. Jaime is now a part of your Royal Guard. Who knows what other changes will come."

"And those changes will benefit the realm," Nesaerys said, "Not you."

"I know," Cersei replied. "A lot of the changes he has already made have been for the benefit of the realm and its people, even at his own expense."

"Indeed," Sofie said, "and he would continue to do so."

Cersei took a few steps forward towards them. "But we all hope he doesn't… overextend his generosity and reforms. Some more unscrupulous people may… try to take advantage of our good king." She bowed her head and with a "my ladies," walked off.

The young girls watched her go. "I don't like her," Nesaerys whispered to her sister.

Meanwhile...

"Are you sure this is wise, Nakos?" Mjoll asked as she and several other Royal Guards escorted Nakos through the streets of King's Landing. "You don't know who this High Sparrow fellow is."

"Varys has told me enough," Nakos replied. "And I think I can protect myself," he added with a smile.

"No one is doubting that, Nakos," Lydia replied, "But you've always warned us to be careful. And if this man asked to meet with you..."

"This is to be a friendly meeting," interrupted Nakos. "We don't want to provoke a fight if it can be avoided. People are still recovering from the wars."

Farkas and Vilkas looked between the two of them and shrugged, predatory grins on each of their faces. "If it comes to that, we'll be ready. Ten years is long enough without some serious action."

Nakos glanced at them with a smirk. "There's a reason we have brothels and Dibella priestesses, you know."

Farkas merely blinked, not understanding fully what Nakos implied, but his brother Vilkas merely frowned. "Not the action we meant, Harbinger. Besides, I've been to both places already."

The five of them shared a laugh as they continued towards Flea Bottom. They soon came across a large group of peasants who seemed to be waiting in line down a flight of steps. Lancel Lannister was at the bottom of the steps and was surprised to see Nakos approaching.

"I told you I'd find him," Nakos said.

Lancel stammered at first, but quickly composed himself. "He's up there," he said pointing up the stairs.

Nakos went up, but did not rush. He took his time, talking with the peasants who reached out to him. Despite the changes he made, Flea Bottom was still the poorest district of King's Landing. Nakos wanted to help the people, but even with his own considerable wealth and resources added to the royal treasury, his ability to aid the poor was only finite.

As he reached the top of the steps, he saw an older gentleman passing out food to the peasants. He was dressed like Lancel was, in a roughspun tunic, and was barefoot. "You must be the High Sparrow," Nakos greeted him.

"And you must be the new king of Westeros," the High Sparrow said as he spooned soup into a bowl and passed it to a peasant. "I suppose I need not ask how you found me."

"I have my ways." Nakos walked around to the other side of the table. "Do you need help?"

The High Sparrow did not answer right away, taken back by the request to help. "Of course," he said finally. "It's not common for the king to help the commonfolk."

"I'm not like most kings," Nakos replied as he passed a bowl of soup to a young peasant boy. "I actually care about the people. I do try to help as much as I can."

"And for that, I am grateful. You have done much for this country. However, some of those changes I do not agree with."

"Such as?"

"The introduction of a new and foreign religion, for one. The casual breaking of this land's sacred laws and traditions for another," the High Sparrow began. "You treat the sacred laws of the Seven we have followed for nearly ten thousand years with scorn, and supplant it with laws better suited to your own way of life."

"High Sparrow, I have nothing against the laws of the Seven. But as you may have noticed, there are thousands of immigrants from Tamriel now living in Westeros, and they still adhere to the Nine Divines. Even I adhere to the faith of the Nine Divines. This is the reason I had the Temple of the Divines built: to make sure my people have a place to worship. The people of Westeros still have freedom to worship the Seven."

The High Sparrow shook his head. "And yet you allow women to serve in a military capacity, and to fight on the front lines." He indicated Mjoll and Lydia with his eyes. "You allow unnatural sexual relations between men and women of the same gender. Both of these acts are against our faith in a profound way. Our way has always been to expose and punish those who commit sins and atrocities of this nature."

"Are we to say that women are less than men?" Nakos asked, narrowing his eyes a bit. "Because as much as the people of Westeros might wish it, the world isn't so black and white. In Skyrim, we don't hold to the old ideas that women are good for one thing and men are good for another. Where that idea came from, I do not know, but what I do know is that those in Westeros is far behind in their thinking."

"Not at all. That's not the reason for that rule, Your Grace," The High Sparrow raised his right hand in a conciliatory gesture. "And I am well aware that the living conditions in Tamriel may well foster the necessity of women having to protect themselves much more than here in Westeros, or even Essos. But that does not change the fact that men and women are different, and need different requirements. To say otherwise is folly, and you already know that. If a pregnant woman pregnant goes into battle, tell me what happens if that child dies before they are born? The mother risks death not only of herself, but her baby as well. Does Stendarr's mercy not extend then to a child who has not even seen the light of day? And that is only one singular example."

"We are not so rash as to send a woman with child into battle, High Sparrow. But to answer your question, yes. Stendarr does extend his mercy to a child who has not yet been born. Yet that does not explain why women should not be able to protect themselves or the ones they love." The reprimand was delivered in a firm tone. "Men are not the only ones destined to be lords and warriors and princes. Women can be warriors as well as merchants, blacksmiths, singers, scholars, and more. Likewise, men in Skyrim are not confined to certain roles that they would be confined to here in Westeros, and there have been several men who have not been as honorable as they should have been. I can name more than a few men who were called 'knights' that didn't deserve the title in the slightest. Ser Gregor Clegane comes to mind, as does Janos Slynt and most of the former Kingsguard and the Gold Cloaks. They murdered innocent babies and children… and gods know what else."

"Such were the sins of the previous monarchy, regretfully," The High Sparrow nodded. "Ser Barristan Selmy was perhaps the last great knight of the King's Guard, before Joffrey's influence and those of his family took root. Nevertheless, it has long been held that most women are unsuited for the life of combat. For many it is seen as unbecoming-"

"That is not a decision for you or anyone else to make," Nakos interrupted. "It is literally up to the individual who lives the life to chose how they live. More than half of Tamriel's forces were composed of women. If it weren't for them, we may not be here today, and I may not have made it to the Lands of Always Winter."

The High Sparrow was silent for a moment as he passed a soup bowl. "Be that as it may, that still does not excuse the unnatural relations that you tolerate. I have seen some of those couples amongst your people from Tamriel. And that includes having Ser Loras serving in your Royal Guard."

"That's another matter of religious belief versus rule of law," Nakos answered evenly. "As far as the crown is concerned, who the heart desires is the preference of the individual. Your beliefs are no excuse to persecute someone for their choice of partner."

"And what exactly do your beliefs have to say about such matters?" The High Sparrow asked.

"The Divines believe that we mortals must find our own way," Nakos answered. "They do reward good deeds, of course, but we are never hand-held or coddled. The only time the Divines ever intervene in the affairs of our world is when there is no other choice. Such was the case when Akatosh intervened in the war against Mehrunes Dagon."

"And you say you became his… avatar," the High Sparrow scoffed, unbelieving. "That he used you as his vessel to kill Dagon."

"I did, and he did. There are several people you can ask who were witness to it. The Divines helped us win the War, whereas I saw no aid from the Seven, or any other pantheon. One would think that when the end of this world was so close, the gods would have done something... anything, to guide those who needed it most."

The High Sparrow glared at Nakos. "Be careful how you speak about the Seven, Your Grace. You may not believe in our faith, but they still deserve your respect, especially from a king."

"And my gods deserve your respect," Nakos matched his glare with one of his own. "I respect what your faith is trying to do: give the people something to believe in. It is my goal as well. But who is to say that our religions are not one and the same anyway? Perhaps it's our people who create the differences in what we believe, not the gods themselves." At this, Nakos smiled. "At least that is what my son said. The mind of a child, untainted by the prejudices of this world. It's an amazing thing."

The High Sparrow stopped what he was doing and looked at Nakos curiously. "You worship nine gods, correct?"

"Yes," Nakos answered, "And you worship seven."

The old man shook his head. "We worship one god, but he has seven faces. The Father, the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone, the Warrior, the Smith, and the Stranger. Each aspect represents one part of life. First there's The Father. He represents divine justice, and judges the souls of the dead."

"We have Stendarr, the god of justice as well as Akatosh. Akatosh is the chief god, as the Father is the chief god of your faith."

"The Mother represents, mercy, peace, fertility, and childbirth."

Nakos smiled, "Stendarr again. He is also the god of mercy. Mara is the Mother-Goddess, goddess of fertility."

"The Maiden represents purity, love and beauty."

"Mara and Dibella. Both are gods of love, although Dibella is more… open to the kinds of worship and offerings she receives, if you know what I mean."

The High Sparrow did not smile, but he knew the general idea of what Nakos was saying before he continued. "The Crone represents wisdom and foresight."

"Julianos," Nakos said, "the god of wisdom and logic."

"The Warrior represents strength and courage in battle."

"Talos, the god of war. The man that became a god."

"A man became a god?" the High Sparrow was surprised to hear of such a thing.

"Most believe he did, yes. There is some debate, but the vast majority of Tamriel's people believe he was rewarded by the Eight Divines for his valiant deeds in life. Thus, eight became nine."

The High Sparrow shook his head in disbelief and continued, "The Smith represent creation and craftsmanship."

Nakos thought for a moment, "Zenithar is the closest I can think of. The god of work and commerce."

"And finally, the Stranger. He represents death and the unknown."

"Arkay. He is the god of death, burials, as well as the god of life." Nakos did not mention Sithis for obvious reasons.

The High Sparrow looked at Nakos and the corner of his lips pulled up ever so slightly. "Perhaps you are right, Your Grace. Perhaps our religions are not so different after all."

Turdas, the 13th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10

Braavos

Arya Stark stood on the stern of the ship as it approached the Free City of Braavos. It was the second time she had been to the city. The first was when she came with the ghost of Lucien to recruit the Faceless Men to help Nakos' cause against Dagon. Even though that was ten years ago, it only seemed like yesterday. As the ship sailed underneath the immense statue, the Titan of Braavos, she took time to appreciate the sights. She remembered seeing the city before, but she didn't have time to appreciate them before.

"You've been here before?" Kirstina asked and chuckled at Arya's surprised look. "You have that look on your face."

"It's been a long time since I have," Arya replied as she looked back out towards the city.

"But you didn't have time to truly enjoy what the city had to offer."

Arya shook her head. "And I won't have time now, either."

Kirsten joined her at the bow of the ship. "The work of an assassin never ends."

"Or a thief."

Kirsten chuckled. "True. Brynjolf keeps us busy in King's Landing. And by busy, I mean stealing from those that have caused Nakos trouble over the years."

"Some things never change," Arya said.

The rest of the assassins and thieves joined them at the stern. "Some city," Cassius said as they sailed closer.

"So what's the plan, Arya?" Camaron asked.

"You're asking me?"

"You're the leader," Morgen reminded her.

Arya thought for a moment. It was still a surprise to her that Nakos had placed her in charge of a small team of spies and assassins and tasked them with investigating the death of the Sealord. She just hoped that she would not disappoint him. "We'll need to establish a base." A smirk came across her lips. "And I know just where we should go first." She pointed to a tall building in the distance. "The House of Black and White."

"The home of the Faceless Men?" Morgen asked, eyes wide. "Why in Oblivion would we go there?"

"They are our brothers. They are a part of the Dark Brotherhood, and believe me, when you have nowhere else in this city, it's always good to find sanctuary. Besides, I have orders for them from the Listener."

"Is it true what they can do?" Morgen asked. "That they can change their face?"

Arya nodded. "I've seen it myself. Trust me, it's a useful skill."

Morgen chuckled nervously. "I'll take your word for it."

Jax chuckled. "You sound scared, Morgen."

Morgen glared at the Imperial assassin. "How would you feel if the person in front of you suddenly had a new face?"

Jax shrugged. "There's a new face in my bed almost every night."

Kirsten groaned. "I did not need to know that."

"Enough," Arya put a hand to stop the bickering, though she had a smile, herself. "Once we gain the help of the Faceless Men, we need to infiltrate the Sealord's Palace and see what we can find out."

The ship made its way to the harbor and the group took several rowboats out to the House of Black and White. Everyone looked up at the immense height of the building. "Let me do the talking first," Arya instructed and knocked on the door. The door opened slowly and a old, white-haired man peeked out. "Valar morghulis," Arya greeted the man.

"Valar dohaeris," the man replied. "Who comes here?"

"Servants of Sithis," Arya said, giving him the scroll Nakos had given her. "The Listener has sent us."

The man looked them over. "What is the music of life?"

"Silence, my brother," Arya answered with a small smile.

The man smirked. "Welcome home. Come in, my brothers and sisters." He opened the door wider and the group quickly walked in. Once they were inside, he closed the door and turned to face them. "You are the leader?" he asked, pointing to Arya.

Arya nodded. "I am Arya Stark."

At the mention of her name, the man smiled. His hand went to his face and he pulled off the face of the older man to reveal a younger, more familiar face. "Welcome back, Arya Stark."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Morgen groaned to herself, earning a few snickers from her friends, including Arya.

Arya's first instinct was to run and hug the Faceless man who had taken the face of Jaqen H'ghar, but she remained calm. "A man takes on a familiar face," she said instead.

"A man did not wish to scare a woman," Jaqen replied to Morgen before turning back to Arya. "A woman would have been more comfortable talking to a familiar face. But a woman's friends have not seen the magic of the Red God. It scares them."

"Just Morgen," Jax quipped.

Arya smirked at Jax's jab, but replied to Jaqen. "After travelling the Void with Lucien, and seeing the destruction wrought by Dagon, little surprises me anymore."

Jaqen gestured further in. "If a woman and her friends would follow a man, they could speak about what the Listener wants." They followed the Faceless Man through several hallways and into another room. "What does the Listener want with the Faceless Men?"

"Your help," Arya said. "No doubt you have heard, but the Sealord of Braavos is dead. Murdered."

"A man has heard."

"Whoever killed him has placed the blame on the Dark Brotherhood," Arya added. "And the Listener wants to find out who truly is responsible and why they blamed us."

At the mention of the Dark Brotherhood being framed, Jaqen shifted uncomfortably. "A man had thought that the Sealord was killed out of jealousy. Such is the way of Braavos. The position is not hereditary, so if a Sealord dies, a new one is chosen. And to secure such a position, blades are drawn."

"So almost everyone in the palace had motive to kill him," Kirsten mused aloud. "But why frame the Dark Brotherhood? What good would that do?"

Jaqen steepled his fingers in thought. "A man doubts that it was a plot from within the palace. The sigil of the Dark Brotherhood is not known to the men of Essos, with very rare exceptions since the War. Whoever killed Sealord Maeros had no intention of claiming the title of Sealord for themselves. Perhaps this is a plot meant to disrupt a wider alliance. For instance, the alliance of the Free Cities, or even with Westeros and the Listener himself."

"Well, have there been any unusual visitors or strangers who recently arrived?" Arya suggested. "Someone with outsider knowledge like that in Essos is going to be extremely rare."

"You think it could be one of ours?" Cassius asked. "That we have a traitor within King's Landing or the Dark Brotherhood? Or even the Thieves Guild?"

"There has only been one traitor within the Dark Brotherhood in recent memory," Jaqen said. "Babette is the only one still alive from back then, and she has proven her loyalty to the Listener. Everyone else is from a time after Astrid's betrayal. That means the Faceless Men and the Dark Brotherhood may be dealing with someone who has prior knowledge of the Brotherhood. Someone who knows of us and our ways. Perhaps someone from Tamriel."

"Who from Tamriel would have something against the Dark Brotherhood?" Arya asked.

Jaqen chuckled. "That list is very long. But a man is sure a woman and her friends can narrow that list down."

Fredas, the 14th of Sun's Dusk, 5E 10

King's Landing

Cersei Lannister made her way through Flea Bottom, holding a handkerchief to her nose to stop the stench. She wished she had Ser Meryn Trant with her for protection, in case something happened, but there were enough City Watch members around. They would have to do. But even if they did their duty and protected her and other innocents, she did not trust them. She walked through the steps near Rhaenys' Hill, and came across a long line of peasants. She followed the line to a small canopy, where she found an older man passing food to peasants.

"The young man said I would find the High Sparrow back here," Cersei said. "Where is he?"

"High Sparrow?" the man chuckled. "Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? Like Lord Duckling, or King Turtle. Still, it's meant to. We're often stuck with the names our enemies give to us. The notion that we are all equal in the eyes of Seven doesn't sit well with some so they belittle me." He passed a bowl of food to a young peasant woman.

"Seven blessings to you," the woman thanked him.

"Seven blessings to you, my dear," the High Sparrow said before turning his attention back to Cersei. "It's only a name, quite an easy burden to wear. Far easier than hers," he added, indicated the woman who had received food.

Cersei looked down to see he was not wearing shoes. "Why no shoes?

"Because I gave them away to someone who needed them more," he answered. "We all do that. It stops us from forgetting who we really are."

"Is that why you came to King's Landing? To remind everyone?"

"Everyone?" the High Sparrow chuckled. "I have a hard time reminding myself. Well, I tell them no one's special. They think I'm special for telling them so."

Cersei shrugged. "Perhaps they're right.

"It would be comforting to believe that, wouldn't it?" He gestured for the Lannister woman to follow him as he tended to other peasants. "The gods sent you here to tempt me? I hope not. I'd assumed you'd only come here to ask why I met with the king."

"You met with the king?"

The older man nodded. "It was an… interesting conversation. Though he is a good man and has done much for this country, I very much disagree with the changes he has made. Allowing women to serve in the military? Allowing unnatural relations in this city?" He looked Cersei over. "I wouldn't presume to know your thoughts on the matter."

Cersei suppressed a smirk. I have my way in, she thought. "My thoughts on the matter align with your own. The king's choices may become corrosive, despite his attitude and intentions to make this city a better place. Having a man like that reside in the Red Keep eats away the Faith from the inside. The Faith and the Crown are the two pillars that hold up this world. If one collapses, so does the other. We must do everything necessary to protect one another, wouldn't you say?"

The High Sparrow looked at her for what seemed like an eternity. "I assume you would want to meet to discuss this in depth?"

Cersei nodded. "I do."

The High Sparrow chuckled. "Meet me in the Great Sept this evening."

A few hours later, Cersei and the High Sparrow met in one of the libraries. She sat at a desk, pouring a glass of wine. "May I offer you some wine, Your Holiness?"

"No," the High Sparrow said with a smile.

Cersei looked unsure, having expected him to say yes. After a moment, she smiled and pushed the wine away. "The old High Septon would have asked the vintage."

"I could say that our minds are temples to the Seven," the High Sparrow responded, "and should be kept pure. But the truth is, I don't like the taste."

"Hmm," was all Cersei said as she took a sip of wine.

After a moment, the older man spoke. "What do you want, Lady Cersei?"

"All over Westeros we hear about the changes a foreign king has made. The Faith of the Seven is being supplanted by a foreign religion and belief."

"This is the same conversation I had with His Grace," High Sparrow sighed. "He seems to be convinced that our beliefs are more similar than we think."

"And what do you think?"

"I think there is some merit to his arguments, but the Faith of the Seven has, is, and always will be the faith of Westeros. This new faith he is trying to introduce may be fine for his people, but what if our people convert to his religion? How will that affect us in the near future, especially if he rules for forty more years?"

"And his children who will inherit the throne," Cersei replied. "They already display mixed feelings about matters of faith, especially after Nakos spread those stories of what happened beyond the Wall."

High Sparrow doubted that. "Children are not easily swayed from the faith of their parents."

"But Nakos has spread those stories," Cersei said, trying to dissuade him.

"It matters not if those stories are true, or if it was with the help of his gods or ours, His Grace ended the war and stopped Dagon's war as well."

Cersei simply shrugged as she took another sip of wine. "And now we are feeling the effects of the war. Heresy. Abominable relations. Who knows what other sins he commits in the Red Keep or what sins occur in that Temple of the Divines." She said nothing for a moment, and then smirked. "In the days before the Targaryens, the Faith Militant dispensed the justice of the Seven."

The High Sparrow raised an eyebrow. "Well, the Faith Militant was disarmed more than two centuries ago."

Cersei smirked. "If I explain the purpose to you, I have no doubt you will arm the believers you felt were worthy."

"If I am not mistaken," the High Sparrow replied, leaning forward. "It is only by the decree of the king that the Faith Militant can be reformed."

"Not necessarily," Cersei replied. "In the days of old, the Faith Militant stood against the crown when the Faith believed that the Targaryens were heretics and blasphemers."

The High Sparrow digested this for a moment. "An army that defends the bodies and souls of the common people."

Cersei smirked. "An army and service to the gods themselves. And to you, of course. As the chosen representative of the Seven."

"An honor I never expected. Or indeed, ever wished for."

"Which is why you were chosen," Cersei said, eliciting a smile from the High Sparrow. "You and I both know how the world works. Too often the wicked are the wealthiest, beyond the reach of justice. Even the king himself will not punish those who deserve it most."

"All sinners are equal before the gods."

Cersei paused for a moment. "What would you say if I told you we have a great sinner in our very midst? Shielded by gold and privilege and by the king himself."

The High Sparrow's smile grew wider. "May the Father judge him justly."

The moment was broken when quiet laughter came from behind a pillar near the entryway. It was just one person laughing, but then several more laughs quietly joined in. Soon, a tall, golden-skinned woman appeared at the entryway, dressed in fine dark robes and a cloak. A hood was draped over her head. Two other similar men appeared behind her.

"Silly humans," the woman spoke in a cultured, precise voice. "If you think that any rabble you could cobble together would match what Nakos has built in a decade, you had best reconsider your plan very carefully."

Cersei jumped to her feet and was about to call for guards, but the stranger put up a hand, "You have no power over the guards, Cersei Lannister. Or have you forgotten that already?"

"Who… in Seven Hells are you?" Cersei asked slowly.

"For now," the tall woman said with a smirk, "I am someone who shares your detest of Nakos and his ilk."

Cersei had the most dreaded sense of deja vu, when Mephala spoke those very same words. "I have heard that before, and it almost cost the lives of everyone in this city."

The woman tilted her head. "Yes, so I have heard. You allied yourself with the Daedric Prince Mephala. But I can assure you I am no Daedra."

The High Sparrow stood slowly. "Then who exactly are you?"

The woman removed her hood to reveal elf ears. "Let's say that if you wish to deal with Nakos, we can… provide certain assistances."

"Why should I trust you?" Cersei asked firmly.

"Consider the possible alternatives," the elf sat in the other empty chair. "Let us say you and your newly recreated 'Faith Militant' begin to stir up trouble. All Nakos has to do is wave his hand, and you all get arrested and locked away for disturbing the peace and inciting rebellion. But then, let us say your little rebel movement picks up speed and gains a few minor victories and support from the common folk. Then, you might rouse Nakos to take more direct action, and he will use the power of his Voice to eradicate you and your faith. Without a means of combating his advantages in numbers, resources and power, you would be crushed in a day."

The elf took an empty glass, poured herself a glass of wine, and continued. "My people and I, however, have experienced considerable success against his kind before. You will need what we know to be successful in your attempt to retake the crown of Westeros and end Nakos and his supporters."

"And what is in it for you, stranger?" the High Sparrow asked. "You are of Tamriel yourself, and people from that country are all aligned with him."

"True," the elf said as she took a drink, "but we were the ones who refrained from aiding him in his fight against Dagon."

Cersei narrowed her eyes as realization dawned on her. "Your from the Aldmeri Dominion, aren't you?" she asked. "I read about your Dominion in some of the books from Tamriel. You defeated the Empire in the Great War."

The Altmer smiled slightly. "That is correct, Lady Cersei. I am the First Emissary of the Dominion, but you may know me as Elenwen."