Author's Notes: Thank to Vergil1989, who helped me and DarkStorm with this chapter. We've included a small easter egg to Vergil's story. Kudos to those who pick it up!

Also, I want to include a trigger warning in this first scene of the chapter. Some of the dialogue and actions in this first scene may bother some readers and so to be safe, I wanted to warn all y'all before hand.

Morndas, 8th of Evening Star

Braavos

The sound of a door opening snapped Arya out of her sleep. Her first instinct was to panic, but she remembered her training and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Despite the situation she was in, Arya couldn't help but chuckle to herself since she had come quite a long way from the scared little girl she'd been to who she was now. She was still scared perhaps, but it didn't cripple her. She'd been through too much to be frightened so easily anymore. There was barely any light in the large cell, save for the small amount of light that had shone in when the door was opened, and it didn't last long. But it lasted long enough for Arya to see where she was.

It was a large circular room and her fellow thieves and assassins were chained by their wrists up against the wall. They had been tortured for the past few days by Thalmor, and they wanted to know who they were and why they were in Braavos. Of course, none of them had said anything, enduring the torture. Arya had marks and wounds all over her body, from fire, electricity, ice, and slices and cuts from daggers, which were no doubt coated in poison. Not enough poison to kill, but enough to incapacitate her and cause her great pain.

The firepit that sat in the middle of the room was suddenly lit with a fireball and two Thalmor stood there with a smirk on both of their faces. One of them was wearing a long robe and had an elven dagger in his hand, which seemed to be enchanted with fire. The other was sporting elven armor and had an elven mace in one hand and Needle in his belt.

"Well, well," the one with the mace said. "Look who's up." He gave an evil laugh. "Ready to go again, bitch?"

Arya only smirked. "Fuck you." The elf shrugged and taking the mace in his hand brought it with force into her chest, eliciting a coughing fit from Arya. She spat onto the ground, and wasn't surprised to see blood mixed with spit. "That all you got?"

"You're a fighter, I'll give you that," the elf with the dagger said. "But soon your body will give out, and we'll no longer have use of you. We would kill you, but you're a Stark. Maybe the whorehouses will be a fit once we're done here."

"Is that supposed to scare me? I've already seen the worst Tamriel has to offer, and you're rather lacking by comparison, knife-ear." Arya spat out, and groaned when the mace fell on her stomach this time, but she merely smirked up at the two elves. "I almost felt that one. A little to the left next time, would you?"

"This is pointless." The mace wielder growled.

"Not necessarily," the other elf said. He slowly walked over to Jax and slapped him across the face a few times. "Rise and shine."

Jax jerked awake and when he saw who was in front of him, he sighed. "Oh great, I was hoping this was a bad dream. Guess not. Be a friend and eviscerate yourselves for us? That'd be great, thanks."

The elf with the dagger smiled. "Charming, to the last." Not two seconds later, he jammed the blade into Jax's torso and twisted viciously.

"NOO!" Arya screamed, as if she'd been the one stabbed instead.

The elf only smirked evilly and healed Jax, leaving a smoldering burn scar behind. Jax himself was panting, covered in sweat and his face wet with tears from the sheer agony from the assault. "Next time I won't heal him. Perhaps you won't be so hesitant to tell us what we wish to know if your friends lives are on the line?"

Arya glared into the smug elf's face, and her voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Perhaps it'll be me on the other end of that dagger when we get out of here knife-ear?"

"Tell you what, if you can get out of those chains and disarm me, I might even let you try to kill me. Until then, know your place, mongrel." The elf with the dagger walked to the next person: Camaron. "Maybe this one will be more cooperative." He yanked on the Redguard's hair and pulled his head back, placing the dagger at his throat. "What say you, human scum?"

"I say you should fuck yourself bloody with that knife." Camaron hissed, and smirked even as the blade nicked his throat, a small cloud of smoke appearing from where the enchanted weapon touched his skin. "I'm at peace with my gods, can you say the same?!"

"You admit to keeping to the false god Talos, then?" The elf chuckled once. "I shouldn't be surprised. Humans are so foolishly stubborn, like skeevers."

"This skeever still has bite to him." Cameron retorted.

"Leave him, Camdor." The elf with the mace walked up and stopped in front of Morgen, who was staring up at him defiantly. "Maybe this one will be more… willing."

"Try it." She dared him, her voice low and sounding more menacing than she currently appeared, her hands chained to a wall like the rest. "I've been with bigger men than you, goldie. I doubt you could get it up long enough to be more than a nuisance."

The elf didn't reply right away, but simply ran his hand through her brown hair. She tried to pull away and ram her head into the elf's face, but he was just out of reach and merely smirked at her attempt.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Kirsten yelled.

"Don't worry," the elf replied without taking his eyes off of Morgen. "You'll be next."

"You touch her and you'll have to deal with me," Cassius snapped.

"Looks like you found a weakness after all, Darius." Camdor chuckled as he crossed his arms and grinned wickedly at the collection of thieves and assassins. "You pathetic thieves I can understand having feelings for your fellows, but I thought the Dark Brotherhood were inhuman monsters and conscienceless killers? Who would have thought the stories were… grossly exaggerated?"

"It takes one to know one," Jax chuckled. "If we assassins are inhuman monsters and killers, what does that make you? Dogs?"

"Rabid dogs would be a compliment, Jax." Arya chimed in, drawing Darius' attention away from Morgen.

"Says the Stark whore." The elf growled back.

"Oh, sorry. I think I found a weakness too." Arya expected him to attack her next, but she was pleased to see Camdor hold the angry Thalmor back with a hand on his upper arm. "What's the matter? I thought you wanted to hurt us? All I did was give him incentive. Not that he needed much to begin with, being a rabid dog and all."

Camdor continued to hold his friend back. "It's not worth it. Ancano wants them alive… for now." He paused and looked them over. "But he didn't say undamaged." Darius' eyes lit up as Camdor handed the dagger over and nodded to Arya's sword hand. "I think we need to send a message of our own to the false King, Nakos and his Targaryen whore."

"Gladly." Darius walked slowly towards Arya, twirling the dagger in his hands. "You won't need this anymore." He chuckled darkly as he brought the enchanted blade down on Arya's thumb. She valiantly stifled the scream that wanted to escape as he methodically drew the blade back and forth across her finger, until he hit bone before jerking the knife clean through. Catching the severed finger, he nodded his approval as the wound closed shut from the fire enchantment in his borrowed dagger, ensuring it'd hurt for hours more. For a moment he said nothing, but only stared evilly into her eyes, relishing in her pained expressions. "No snappy comebacks now, wolf bitch?"

Arya glared at him. "Just this." She took a moment to collect her thoughts and fight past the pain. The Thalmor, thinking she was too weak to speak above a whisper, leaned in. When he did, Arya moved, faster than she herself expected, and pushed off the wall with her feet as best she could and quickly wrapped her legs around his head. With a twist of her waist, she broke his neck.

Camdor, stunned at the execution of his companion, was tripped by Camaron before he could take another step forward. Camaron and Morgen wasted no time in stomping their feet into anywhere they could reach as hard as they could. One lucky strike found his windpipe, and he quickly died from lack of air.

"Okay, now that they're dead, how in Oblivion are we to get out?" Jax asked.

"Give me a minute!" Arya hissed as she reached out with her toes as best she could and found the elf's keyring. It took a few moments, but eventually she was able to pull it loose and was able to bring the keys up to her hands.

Jax chuckled. "Good to see you're flexible, princess."

"Really?" Cameron groaned. "You're still flirting with her now?"

Jax shrugged. "Not like I have anything better to do at the moment while we're just hanging here."

"Could you all shut up for two seconds? This isn't as easy as it looks." Arya grumbled as she extended her leg backwards towards her hands. Eventually, she was able to get the keys in her hands and free herself. She immediately went to Darius' dead body and retrieved her thumb. With any luck, she could find a healer who could reattach it. She also took Needle from Darius' belt. "You won't be needing this anymore." She muttered darkly before standing to her feet, albeit slowly as a wave of dizziness hit her. Shaking it off for the moment, she finally went to Jax and began to undo his shackles.

"Of course, you'd come to me first," Jax winked.

Arya groaned. "If I kiss you, will you shut up?"

"Kiss me? No. That'd only encourage me." Even as the words left his mouth, Jax saw Arya begin to stumble and immediately reached out to steady her before she fell to the stone floor of the cell. "Easy, Arya. I got the others."

More than a little surprised he had called her by her actual name in recent memory, she didn't resist him as Jax gently lowered her to the wall and got her sat down before moving to free the others. Once they were all free, Cameron and Morgen picked up the dagger and mace from the dead elves. Arya sighed as whatever strength she had found to kill Darius had since left her, forcing Jax and Cassius to support her between them. Out of all of them, she had been the focus of the Thalmors' interrogation, which was expected since she was the leader of this particular group. Whether or not they had known that or had just singled her out because she was a Stark, she neither knew nor really cared at that moment. It didn't matter regardless, only that they got out did.

"Let's try and get out of here before they discover we're free, shall we?" Arya groaned.

"You heard her. Cameron, Morgen, try not to get us killed, eh?" Jax said, and managed a weak smirk before looking at Arya. "Not the exact situation where I'd have loved to get my hands on you, princess."

"Get us out of here alive and I might reconsider castrating you," She teased darkly. Jax only smirked a little wider in response as they started forward.

Cameron and Morgen went forward as silently as they could, clearing the way and killing any unsuspecting Thalmor, hiding the bodies so as not to raise the alarm. Grabbing their weapons, it wasn't long before the rest of the group had at least one dagger between them, although they all silently agreed that they'd have preferred to have their own gear back. But with no way of knowing where it was being stored, it was too much of a risk to try and find it at the moment. They were lucky to have gotten out of that cell at all.

"How exactly are we going to get out of here?" Kirsten whispered, obviously nervous and tired from their days of torture.

"Look for an exit?" Cassius suggested flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. We're all refreshed by your wisdom." Jax rolled his eyes and shook his head before pulling Arya's arm higher up across his back when it started to slip from his grasp.

Camaron winked. "It was rather eloquent, wasn't it?"

"You asked for advice and I gave it." Cassius grunted back.

"Allow me." Morgen closed her eyes and focused for a moment before raising her hand. A small, blue orb of light coalesced in her open palm and shot away, leaving a trail of just visible particles behind. "There. Let's hope it doesn't lead us into a guard patrol."

"You couldn't make it easy." Jax groaned as Arya again began to lose her footing. Cassius said nothing as he did his best to help Jax in keeping the young Stark upright and mobile.

"It took all I had just to do that much. Be glad it worked at all. It wouldn't surprise me if the Thalmor bastards used magicka-sapping poisons on us on top of everything else."

"Well, let's keep moving." Jax said, taking charge for the moment, much to Arya's silent relief and gratitude. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can leave this city." The others nodded and let the matter drop, just glad they had a general direction now as they followed Morgen's clairvoyance spell trail. They were in the clear for the moment, but their sense of calm was soon replaced with nervousness once they passed by what appeared to be a guard station. Thankfully, it seemed it was largely empty, with only two Thalmor just sitting down for a late meal. A silent nod was passed from Arya to the two front runners, who immediately went into the room to deal with the threat before them.

Cameron shook his head in disapproval at their sloppiness before he brought his mace down on the right elf's head about the same time Morgen sliced open the left man's throat. Both were dead, their heads falling into their trays of food. "Stupid elves." Cameron grunted aloud. He was just about to turn and nod for the others to move up, but he stopped and looked down. The shaft of a gold colored arrow was sticking out of his chest. "Huh." Was all he said before he fell to the floor.

Morgen reacted instinctively and threw her dagger at the third Thalmor that had come out of the door on the other end of the room, striking the archer in the center of his forehead. She knelt down next to Cameron and sighed when she checked for any signs of life, only to turn up empty handed. She looked over to Jax and Arya and shook her head.

"Shit," Jax whispered harshly. "We have to move, now."

"Not.. yet," Arya replied softly. "Look around. There may be something we can use here. Healing potions. Information.….I don't care at this point. We didn't...get captured and tortured...only to escape empty handed."

"Are you sure?" Cassius asked, concerned for the rest of the team, but mostly her, same as Jax.

Arya only glared at him. "Yes."

Jax hesitated for a moment before nodding to Cassius. "I got her."

Cassius helped Arya down onto a seat before going to search with the others. They hid the bodies first before searching the rest of the room.

Jax meanwhile sat down next to her, more to keep an eye on her than anything. "You alright?" When she held up her mutilated hand, he held up his own and nodded while smiling sheepishly. "Right, sorry. Stupid question."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Arya replied, a weak, tired smile pulling at her bloodied lips.

Jax chuckled as he gently took her mutilated hands in his left hand. Taking the thumb and placing it against what remained of her thumb, he hovered his right hand over hers. A golden light emanated from his right hand and he began to heal it. It took a few moments, but soon her hand was whole.

She looked wide-eyed at him. "You never told me you could heal."

"I never told you I didn't," he replied with a smirk. "You assumed I didn't." He looked towards their fallen friend and sighed. "Not that it did Cameron any good."

"We'll avenge him, Jax." Arya stated and put her hand on his shoulder. "It's the least we can do after I screwed up and got us into this mess in the first place. I was in charge, I should have been smarter, realized that bastard could track us down. A mistake I won't be making twice."

"It's not your fault, princess," Jax gently placed his hand on her cheek. "The Thalmor are smart. You could have never known that book had a spell on it. We didn't think about it either, and we came from the same world they did, more or less. One of us should have caught it and we didn't, either." It wasn't much of a reassurance, but it had the desired effect as Arya smiled and leaned against Jax's shoulder, too tired to argue the point further.

Cassius remained silent but he nodded his head in approval from a nearby stack of crates he'd been looking through. "Let's just hope we can warn Nakos about what might be coming. I'll call that a victory after this debacle. Vengeance can wait."

"Agreed, Cass." Jax whispered, letting Arya rest for as long as she was able while they waited for the others to scout ahead or find anything they could use.

"Jax. Arya." Kirsten jogged up to them, holding a backpack full of potions. He wasted no time in placing the pack on the table.

Jax quickly dug inside and brought out a healing potion. "Arya, here. Drink."

Arya took the potion, almost dropped it, but was able to down it in a single breath. She made a face at the foul taste but almost immediately started to feel better. She was still sore, but that was a minor complaint now as she downed another healing potion and a stamina potion before giving the rest to Jax and Cassius to hand out to the rest of the group. "You need them more than me at this point."

Jax was about to argue, but decided against it and drank down both a healing and stamina potion when Arya started to glare disapprovingly at him. "Bleh, hate those things, but at least they're handy. Maybe it's because they were Thalmor made that makes them taste like shit?"

"Complain about it, later." Cassius grunted as he downed his own before walking back to the table. "Did you find anything else while you were out there, Kirsten?"

"I was more worried about getting you back on your feet." Kirsten said after doing the same as the others. Shaking her head at the taste, she threw the empty bottles into a nearby corner.

"It's okay. You did good." Arya stated and nodded in approval. "As soon as Morgen gets back, we should be strong enough to escape."

It didn't take long for Morgen to come back, with papers in hand. "I found these."

"They don't have tracking spells on them, do they?" Jax quipped. "I don't want Princess to go through this again."

Morgen raised an eyebrow but said nothing about their shared captivity, instead doing a quick scan of the papers she'd found and could find nothing resembling any unwanted surprises. "They're clean, as far as I can tell."

"So what does it say?" Arya asked, her voice sounding stronger already.

"Braavos isn't the only place the Thalmor have taken root," Morgen placed the letters on the table in front of them. "They're in Meereen and Westeros as well."

"So they're causing trouble all over the world," Arya groaned. "Great. Looks like those plans we found are coming true after all."

Jax held up a finger to silence them. When they were all quiet, they heard footsteps heading their way. "We should move. Now."

They all disappeared into the shadows just before a Thalmor patrol rounded the corner. Much to their dismay, the elves stopped and stared at the trays of scattered food and the blood that was decorating the table currently. With a simple hand gesture, the six-man group spread out, intent on finding any trace of them no doubt. "Shit." Arya cursed, and ducked down a little lower when one of them got too close to her hiding spot for comfort.

Just as he started to look past the stack of barrels she had hidden behind, Cassius stood to his feet and threw his dagger all in one fluid movement before running out of the guard station. While his weapon missed, it had gotten their attention. "What is he doing?!" Morgen whispered with a just audible curse when four of the Thalmor ran after him.

"Giving us a chance." Kirsten replied quietly before she vaulted over the boxes in front of them, sword in hand. Before the closer of the two Thalmor could react, she had impaled one elf through his throat before rolling over his falling body and lashing out with her foot. He took the boot to the face and fell to the floor, where Arya was waiting, Needle in hand.

"Boo," she smirked before driving the point of Needle through his throat.

Morgen once again cast the Clairvoyance spell and once they knew the direction they had to go, they snuck through the shadows again. While they wanted to save Cassius's life, he had given them an opening, and his sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. To make it worse, they heard a blood-curdling scream from the dungeon tunnels where Cassius had ran off into. It was impossible to tell if it had been their friend or one of the Thalmor, but they didn't turn back to find out. They had lost two of their friends already and if they stayed longer, they would lose more.

"Feel that?" Arya asked as a small breeze hit her in the face. "We're nearing the surface. The air's becoming less stale." She'd have to thank Nakos for those early lessons… that's if she survived.

"I forgot the Listener trained you." Kirsten nodded, and patted the young Stark on the shoulder as they continued forward, nerves and bodies tense and ready for the slightest sign of Thalmor related trouble.

What they hadn't expected was other prisoners, a mistake on their part when a burly arm reached through a cell door window and tried to grab Kirsten by the back of her throat. "'Get me out of here!"

She spun away and jammed her dagger through a man's hand, earning her a curse and a yelp of pain for her trouble. Unfortunately the noise echoed down the dark passageway. It didn't take long for several Thalmor to rush down the hallway… on both sides. "Oblivion take you all!" She roared, and pulled a second dagger she'd been able to salvage from the dead guards behind them while the rest of the group readied themselves for battle.

The leader pointed at them while holding back the guards behind him with an outstretched hand. "Remember! Ancano wants them alive... if possible." The moment he dropped his hand though, the heavily armored Thalmor smirked as the others ran ahead to carry out his command. This wouldn't take long, or that's what Arya read on his face until she couldn't see him any longer.

He was half right, it wouldn't take long, but it wouldn't end in their favor. Needle flashed from its sheath as she went into the Water Dance, having long since mastered the Braavosi style of fencing. Quick as a snake, Needle found a weak point between armored plates and dove into the lead man's ribs just under his armpit before she spun around him and drove the slender blade's point into the second's neck. Spinning the other way, she ducked an overhand strike from the third and countered in one fluid movement, stabbing him in the back where he fell in an undignified heap on his dead fellows. By this point, the guard captain's smirk had disappeared as the fourth sent Arya's way was subsequently dealt with in rapid succession. And a quick glance over her shoulder revealed that the rest of his men had been dealt with just as rapidly.

"Such bravado from a bunch of humans when dealing with foot soldiers. Let's see how you deal with the School of Destruction." Pushing the guard captain back before he could charge into the killing field next, a Thalmor Wizard, dressed in similar robes as Ancano, gracefully stepped into the light of the room from the stairwell. The female Altmer's smirk was vicious, and darkened by the hood she wore. The cloak billowed out behind her in the breeze from the surface so tantalizingly close. The wizard held a handful of lightning in her left hand, and her right held a Justiciar Saber. "Come at me, if you dare."

"Well, let's not keep the lady waiting." Jax smirked and rushed forward. The wizard sent a bolt his way, but he easily dodged it and disappeared into the shadows. His friends followed suit, rushing at her, but disappearing into the shadows on either side of the hallway. The wizard and the captain looked to and fro, for any sign of them. Suddenly, a shadow ran past the captain, and he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He let out a scream of pain and when the captain turned to see what had happened, his throat was opened from ear to ear.

The wizard however only rolled her eyes and grabbed the first cloaked figure that dared approach her. When Morgen looked into the Thalmor's eyes, she could see they were alight with magica. Life Detect spell. "You didn't think I would allow myself to be caught out by a bunch of sneaking skeever rats like you, did you?" Morgen let out a gasp of surprise before she let out an agonized scream, lightning coursing through her from head to foot.

"Morgen!" Kirsten shouted and could only watch, horrified as Morgen was dropped to the ground, lifeless and charred to the bone.

The wizard only laughed. "Too bad, so sad." She chortled and stepped to the side just as Kirsten tried to rush her, blade first. The wizard countered with an elbow jab to her throat before spinning on her heel, her sabre finding its mark in the woman's chest. "Pathetic."

"You bitch!" Jax and Arya shouted as they ran in, Needle finding its mark between her eyes while Jax's sword found a new home in the wizard's stomach. The Altmer's eyes glowed once before going dead.

"Arya," Jax pulled her up by the arms when she knelt by Kirsten and Morgen's dead bodies. "We have to go. There's going to be more coming."

Arya mumbled. "They relied on me….and I got them killed."

"You can grieve once we're gone." Jax said and dragged her up so she was on her feet. "But this will have been for nothing if we end up dead or caught again." Arya could only nod, but it was enough for Jax as he squeezed her hand over Needle's hilt. "Focus on getting out."

"R-right." After regaining her composure, Arya started down the hallway. "We should get back to the House of Black and White. They can inform Nakos of what we found while we get to Meereen."

"Then let's go, princess."

Tirdas, 9th of Evening Star

Great Sept of Baelor, King's Landing

Daenerys Targaryen, accompanied by several Royal Guard members, made her way to the Great Sept of Baelor. It had been five days since Loras Tyrell's inquest and the arrest of both Loras and his sister Margaery. Though Nakos made his plans known to Dany, he explained that they still had to act the part of disappointed and angered rulers. She didn't have to feign much anger, so it was easy for her to march into the Sept, guards at her side, fury etched on her beautiful face. She was determined to get a measure of this man, one way or the other. If she had to Shout down the Militant that made the mistake of getting in her way, all the better.

She was disappointed when the few guards in their drab gray robes stood aside when they saw her and her retinue coming. Unsurprisingly, she found him at the foot of the Seven Faced God's statue, praying. "High Sparrow." She called out softly, but the tone in her voice suggested he had better listen.

The High Sparrow didn't stand or look up, unbothered by the dangerous edge in her voice. "Your Grace."

Dany folded her arms across her chest. "You should have the decency to stand when you talk to the queen."

"And you should have the decency to kneel before the gods."

"Don't spar with me. I've dealt with forces you could barely comprehend. You do not frighten me with your piety and misguided beliefs."

The High Septon stood up slowly, groaning ever so slightly. "Perhaps, but I am a simple man of the people. As for what you have dealt with Your Grace, that might be true, but I do not fear what you are capable of."

"A man of the people?" Dany scoffed. "Is that your game? It's an old game. Dull and unconvincing. You're a man of the people, and yet you do Cersei's dirty work for her. She has always wanted to secure the throne for herself and her family."

The High Sparrow only shrugged. "The people always do the dirty work."

"Spare me the lies. Ever since I took the throne, I've learned to smell frauds and liars a mile off."

"A very useful talent. I know you and Nakos have learned to play the Game."

"As have you. I know you're smarter than you appear, otherwise you couldn't have arranged this farce you call a trial when you did. Cersei simply gave you a nudge in the right direction, provided you with the one witness that could dismantle Loras's defense."

The High Sparrow did not deny or confirm Dany's accusation and instead walked towards the statue of the Father. "Lady Tyrell's grandson and granddaughter swore sacred vows and lied. The Father judges us all. Sons of high lords, sons of fishermen. If you break his laws you will be punished… no matter who you are. Take the history of your family for example."

Dany sneered, having expected the underhanded remark about her family. "I believe my husband already told you not to take the laws of gods and men into your own hands, Sparrow. I am not my father, my brothers, or my ancestors. I chose a man of different blood. You choose to lash out because your ego in your faith took a dramatic blow when Nakos' gods chose to intervene, and the Seven did nothing. If they even exist, which I doubt, why are they so silent?"

"So you would throw away the religion of your father, and your father's father?"

"After what I saw Nakos' gods do… yes." Dany crossed her arms. "I was raised in Essos, I hid from the royal assassins of the crown, and I prayed to the Seven for years as a child yet they did not answer my prayers to go home. I didn't want the throne like my brother, I simply wanted a place where we didn't have to run any longer." Taking a moment to let that sink in, she continued as she slowly closed the gap between herself and the old man. "I have been exposed to hundreds of religions. The Dothraki beliefs were the first among those I came to call my own once. But Nakos' faith in his gods, and the people of Tamriel as a whole, have done what no other has, they have shown proof of their gods workings… and their demons as well."

The High Sparrow said nothing, but instead made his way towards the door.

"Don't you walk away from me," Dany reprimanded. She didn't bother reminding him she was his queen, having a feeling it wouldn't do her any good anyway.

"I don't recognize your authority at this moment, Queen Daenerys. Your speech, while impassioned, does not convince me of anything. Only that you've been misled." He sounded genuinely sad for her.

Dany was incredulous. "Misled? How can you say that after everything that's happened? You would deny everything the Nine did to save us because it wasn't the Seven? What are you really after?"

The High Sparrow chuckled. "I imagine this is strange for you after all that you have endured, both at the hands of your brother and everyone since. Everyone you meet has a hidden motive. But I'm telling you a simple truth: I serve the gods. The gods demand justice."

"And how do they communicate their demands?"

"By the holy text. The seven pointed star. If you don't have one in your library, I'll give you my own."

Dany shook her head with contempt in her eyes. "I have no need. As a child that might have been true, but I am a child no longer."

"Then allow me to tell you about the passages concerning buggery and perjury. Lady Tyrell's grandchildren will be punished in the same manner as anyone who breaks the sacred laws." The High Sparrow informed her as if discussing the weather outside.

"There are men, women, and children in this foul city break the sacred laws. You live among murderers, thieves, and rapists. And yet you punish Loras for shagging and Margaery for defending her brother?"

"Yes. The gods' laws must be applied to all equally."

"Then can I expect you to do the same to everyone?" When the old man nodded, Dany nodded back before her face hardened into a deep scowl. "If it's equality you want, then so be it. When House Tyrell stops sending their crops to the capital, everyone here will starve. And I'm sure the Queen of Thorns will make sure the hungry know who to blame."

The High Sparrow thought on his words before speaking. "Have you ever served the field, Your Grace? Have you ever reaped the grain? Has anyone in your House? While you started humbly, you didn't remain in such a position, and you've become blind to the many. I do not deny neither you nor His Grace have great power, but even the most powerful can be overthrown by the masses." With that, he walked out of the room, leaving an infuriated Dany and her guards in the Sept, alone.

Dany watched him go, her eyes alight with scorn. "I have suffered more than most people you have ever met, and toiled just as hard as any." She called after him before the door in the back of the Sept slammed shut. Without a word needing to be said, the guards and she left the stone building. Only once they had made it back to the castle did she allow herself a smile. The High Sparrow would be in for a surprise.

Fredas, 12th of Evening Star

The Dreadfort

The Great Hall of the Dreadfort was silent as Roose Bolton and his bastard son, Ramsay Snow, dined silently along with his family. Ten years had done nothing for their old hatreds against Nakos and his Targaryen whore, or the sweeping changes he had instituted across the land. They had been left largely alone, so long as they had done nothing to anger the Dragonborn, but Roose only needed to look at his son to be reminded of how much they'd lost during the war. Both of his hands had been cut off when the Imperial Legion attacked the Dreadfort and took Theon Greyjoy from their jail. Ramsay was also taken prisoner, but was given back to Roose to ensure they would not be betrayed during the War Beyond the Wall.

And their troubles had begun when Joffrey and Tywin had been killed either by betrayal or demons attacking the capital. Whatever the case, it didn't matter, the Boltons had lost whatever power they had manage to attain no thanks to the foreigners.

Rikke's promotion to the position of general of the royal armies made Roose's life a living hell. While she was not permitted by Nakos to murder Roose and every one of the Boltons for their killing of Tullius, that didn't stop her from harassing Roose constantly with her authority. Anytime she came north, she made it a point to stop by the Dreadfort to 'inspect' the castle from top to bottom, looking for an excuse to finally remove his head from his shoulders. Roose took some small satisfaction at denying her at every turn, so far. That didn't stop him from imagining flaying her skin off her… one inch at a time, savoring her screams for as long as he could drag it out before she finally succumbed. But those dreams were far from a reality. Nakos' powers and incredible ability to command and lead saw to it that he would not be challenged openly.

"You know, Father," Ramsay said as a servant put a goblet to his lips, helping him to drink his wine. "There is no reason why we can't… capture Rikke when she visits us again. We can say that she attacked us. Nakos must know how… unstable she is."

"Are you so stupid to believe that bastard would believe us over one of his own?" Roose growled in retort. "Rikke has a temper, yes, but she's no fool, and neither is our new liege lord, Robb Stark. He'd know, and he'd have all of our heads mounted on spikes before the new moon rises in the sky. Varys's little birds would ensure the truth found its way to him."

"It was just a thought, Father. Certainly better than sitting on our hands...oh right." Ramsay held up his stumps before dropping them to his lap.

"I've told you before, you were foolish to charge a shield wall on your own. You were lucky enough just to survive that encounter. The rest need not be repeated again."

"It had seemed like a good idea at the time." Ramsay shrugged, having gone over this many times before. It had no effect on him anymore, save to give him a small headache and the urge to wrap his nonexistent hands around his father's throat, but the latter had been a daily thing well before his foolish charge and he had yet to do so. He had some self control after all. Still, that didn't stop Ramsay from imagining himself doing so anyway before his mind gave way to a similar dream of ripping Rikke's flesh from her bones. Then of course there was his favorite pet, Reek. He'd have been happy just to have him back under his thumb.

"A good idea." Roose scoffed. "Like it was a good idea to throw that girl over the wall just last week? Servants aren't exactly lining up, Ramsay. We're lucky to have these few inbred halfwits as it is." He gestured to the half dozen maids and servants that were scattered about the great hall, waiting for orders with fearful, bated breath.

"As I told you before, she tried to cut my throat open while shaving me." Ramsay grumbled. "Of course, if we were allowed to flay the skin of disobedient servants and prisoners again, that might not have been a problem. Yet something else we can thank that lizard-brained king and his pale faced whore for."

"If I had known you hated the royal family that much, I'd have come here sooner." Roose was on his feet in an instant, sword in hand when a dark chuckle filled the Hall from a shadowy corner of the room. Ramsay only turned in his seat and raised an eyebrow in amused curiosity when a robed, gold skinned man stepped out of the shadows. "Personally, I happen to agree with you. The Boltons have a lot more in common with the Thalmor than most would ever imagine. Too bad, you've been neutered."

"She's got a pair of balls, Father." Ramsay chortled and smirked even as he subconsciously went for a dagger at his belt that wasn't there as surely as his hands. He mentally slapped himself even as the impulse to neuter her for the insult was slow to disappear. "I take it you're one of these lovely Thalmor we've heard were too busy hiding on their little Isle to help in the war."

"Hiding? Not quite." The woman chuckled as she slowly walked the space of the Hall and stopped just shy of the table. Pulling down her hood, she shook out her raven black hair and blinked luminescent emerald eyes. "Preparing to take down the royalty however, that we have been doing."

"Well, you certainly are a beauty," Ramsay said, looking her up and down.

"Keep your sword in its trousers, Ramsay Snow," the Altmer sneered. "I only prefer women."

"Such a shame." Ramsay shrugged.

"But that does not mean you can't join in."

"Well with an offer like that, how could I refuse? I might be a bit short-handed though." He smirked, and was rewarded with a sultry laugh from the elven woman.

Roose had had enough of this pointless banter by that point. "I think it's time you told us who you are," Roose said, his face as cold as stone. "And why you're here."

"I can't mix business and pleasure with you, can I?" the Altmer asked, and leaned forward ever so subtly. She wasn't disappointed when Roose only rolled his eyes and remained as stone faced as ever. "And now I know why you have to rape any women you get a fancy for." Her face became hard in turn. "But you better not try it with me, or else you'll lose a lot more than your ability to produce more bastards."

"Save your threats. I have no interest in you." Roose growled out. "I've had quite enough of you foreigners as it is."

"It's a good thing we can agree on our mutual hatred of Nakos Nalldiir and his Targaryen wife, Daenerys." The Altmer replied before sitting down at the end of the table, facing Roose with no fear whatsoever. "But before we get down to business, I know your names, so it's only fair you know mine. I am Eldria Joroth, Justicar Overlord, and a friend regarding the royal family's destruction. Them, and their dragons too."

Roose rubbed his chin. "Why does that name sound familiar?" Of course it didn't. He wanted to see if he could get a reaction from her.

Eldira knew he was lying and only shrugged. "Maybe you read it in a story somewhere. Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." Roose replied and leaned back in his chair while Ramsay grinned, clearly excited by the prospect that had suddenly fallen into their laps. "What did you have in mind?"

"Patience, Roose, we'll get there soon enough. I've come a long way to be here and I wouldn't mind some of that wonderful venison I can see on your table. That and an actual bath, but that I can wait on until after our business is done." Roose stared at her for a moment before nodding to one of the servants, allowing him to serve the elf. The man scurried off at a brisk pace, not about to keep him or her waiting. Eldria chuckled and shrugged out of her robes, revealing the elven armor underneath, as well as the sword and shield that hung at her belt. The voluminous robes had hid them from sight, much to their surprise. "There, that's better." She chuckled as she folded the heavy black clothing into a neat pile and handed them to another servant. "Lose them, or damage them in any way, and flaying will be the least of your worries."

"Wow, I think I'm in love already." Ramsay cheerfully said as the servant scurried off as if he expected Eldria to jump up at that very moment and rip his eyes out of his skull… and he would have enjoyed every minute. Eldria was certainly alluring, for a foreigner, and while Ramsay hated them in his own way, he was willing to put that to the side if she truly did have a means to tear down the new established order. "So, my lady," He began and folded his arms over his chest. "What did you have in mind?"

"A little sabotage, a little assassination, a little public humiliation." She replied and smirked before taking a bite from the tray that had been put in front of her. Nodding her approval, she took a moment to savor the taste of the venison before looking towards Ramsay. "I'm just a representative in this, but I've been given authority by my superiors to do what I must to secure allies for our eventual attacks against Nakos and his men. And I'm not without my own power. All Thalmor are highly trained killers, both with blade and spell. And I'm one of the best, I can assure you."

"So you say." Roose retorted, not so quick to believe Eldria on her word alone.

Eldria chuckled once. "Tell me, Roose. What do you know of the old Empire of Tamriel?"

Morndas, 15th of Evening Star

Winterfell

"Welcome to Winterfell, Lady Nesaerys," Eddard Stark said with a smile as the caravan entered the gates of the castle of the North… if you could call it a castle. It wasn't like King's Landing, which had a huge castle. It looked more like a huge fort, with the main part being the 'castle'. Even so, there was something genuinely warm and comforting about this small, snow covered corner of the world. King's Landing was hot nearly all year round, yet she had never noticed how unwelcoming the capital was. Here though, it was different. Here, she didn't feel like she was surrounded by unfriendly eyes whenever she was among the nobility.

"It's… it's beautiful," she said softly.

"Like you." Eddard said, doing his best to ignore the slight blush on his cheeks.

Nesy blushed. "Well, you're not that bad looking, either."

Robb and his wife Talisa had been walking by at that moment and only smiled down at the two. "I hope I won't be a grandfather too soon." He warned them both teasingly, which had both Eddard and Nesy spinning away from each other. He only chuckled and continued on, but didn't get far when he heard Farkas give a deep laugh from his belly while Vilkas only chuckled.

"Don't worry, Lord Stark. We'll keep an eye on these two lovebirds." Vilkas promised.

"Come on," Eddard pulled Nesaerys towards the Great Hall. "I'm sure my siblings will want to see you again." The Great Hall of Winterfell was not as big as the one in King's Landing, obviously. But it was more homely, with a large hearth against one wall, blazing merrily and filling the chamber with welcome warmth and light. The moment they entered the room though, Grey Wind, Robb's old and tired direwolf, looked up and barked once in greeting before laying his giant head on his paws. "Good to see you too, old friend." Eddard said before looking towards Nesy, gauging her reaction. When he saw she wasn't afraid, he chuckled. "I guess you've seen a direwolf before."

"Jon has a direwolf like that," Nesy said. "Except his is white and has red eyes. He never makes a noise, either." She held out her hand to the great wolf and was rewarded with a half hearted lick of her fingers. The gray around the wolf's muzzle said he was very old, but she didn't doubt that if the need ever arose, Grey Wind would tear open a man's throat in a heart beat. Hence her caution, but it wasn't needed as he allowed her to run a hand along his head and growled contently. "Do you have a direwolf, Eddard?"

"No. I want one, but we haven't been able to find any puppies. The few that have been spotted are always with their parents, making them….hard to get at."

Nesy nodded, and stood to her feet once she was done petting Grey Wind's head. "Probably a good thing not to take them from their parents anyways. That would be cruel."

"Yeah, and besides, Direwolves are only found beyond the Wall. Only the Rangers of the Night's Watch and the Free Folk go up there."

"Ned!" A voice came from one of the doorways and Bran came running towards him, followed by his direwolf, Summer. Grey Wind looked up and regarded Bran briefly before laying his head down again, but the older Stark hardly noticed. "Good to see you again! And Lady Nesaerys, glad you made it all this way."

Nesy curtsied. "Thank you, Lord Bran."

"It's just Bran to you, Nesy." He chuckled and hugged Eddard and her briefly before Summer went up to the girl and licked her face, earning a giggle from her. Bran chuckled and ran a hand across his wolf's back in approval. "He's always been a good judge of character." Nodding to the twins, the two nodded back in return. "If I had known we'd have more dogs wandering around, I'd have had a space reserved in the kennels." He teased the Companions.

Farkas laughed again and slapped a hand on Bran's shoulder, almost sending the young thief stumbling to the ground. "Still a sodding ice brain I see, little wolf. I thought you'd have learned not to provoke a wolf bigger than you."

"I'm a slow learner." Bran chuckled back and rubbed at his shoulder. "But it's good to see you two are doing well. How is everyone at the capital?" 'Everyone' meant Jon and the rest of his relatives, Rhaelor, Nakos, and Dany specifically.

Vilkas took up the conversation in place of his brother. "Little Rhaelor is as studious as ever, but considering his friendship with Tyrion, that's to be expected. Sofie, Alesan, Nakos, and Dany are also well, but as you know, they have a lot to worry about. It's not easy being the rulers of this side of the world."

"I understand," Bran replied. "Ruling Westeros isn't easy." He knew that better than most, even if he hadn't been in King's Landing personally. He still knew what had happened there, why his father had been killed, and what had happened afterwards. Honestly he was still impressed Nakos and Dany had held the city together for as long as they had back in those days. That wasn't even taking into consideration how the whole affair had started in the first place between the Starks and the Lannisters.

"Who else is here?" Eddard asked, drawing Bran out of his thoughts before a much younger version of himself could hit the ground after being pushed from a tower window.

"Sansa and Rickon are here," Bran answered. "I don't know where Arya is. We haven't seen her or heard from her in a while."

"Aren't you worried?" Nesy asked.

"She and Nakos have been almost inseparable. I think he sent her to do some work. I'm sure if something was wrong, he'd tell us." Bran replied, certain that was the case with their new King and Queen. What he didn't say was that he had a lot more information regarding certain affairs than he let on, but such was the price when working with Brynjolf and Varys.

"I hope so," Nesy said softly. The door opened again and both Sansa and Rickon strode in followed closely by Catelyn. While Sansa ran ahead, a blur of red hair and deep blue mages robes, Rickon and Catelyn remained by the door, the youngest of the Starks supporting the older woman who had recently needed to take up a cane to help her get around.

"Lady Nesaerys!" Sansa greeted Nesy with a hug. "Welcome to Winterfell."

"Choking, not breathing." Nesy wheezed, but was all smiles despite Sansa's crushing hug. The mage backed off and blushed scarlet at her exuberance, but Nesy waved her off before she could begin to apologize. "It's good to see you again."

"Thank you. Last time I saw you, you were still waddling with a thumb in your mouth." Nesy blushed but chuckled at the reminder.

Nesaerys saw Lady Catelyn approaching. "Lady Catelyn," she curtsied.

"We're all family here, Nesaerys. Cat is more than enough, young lady." Cat admonished her gently and embraced her with one arm wrapped firmly around the young Nalldir. "Ooh, you've grown since I saw you last." She laughed, truly happy for this moment. "Your father must be proud of you and your brother." Cat continued once she had let Nesy go.

"He is, my lady," Nesy said respectfully. "At least I hope he is. He says so often enough, but I still can't Shout yet." She sighed and lowered her head, but Catelyn tapped her chin and smiled.

"Consider that a blessing in disguise. From what I've heard, the dragon soul is hard to control if you aren't prepared for it. I know your father has told you from experience." A subtle look towards Sansa told the observant among them that they had talked a great deal about Nakos and Dany as well as their abilities. That aside, Catelyn knew Nakos well enough to be certain he had said something to that effect more than once. It was just the kind of man he was.

Nesy nodded and blushed in mild embarrassment at her own eagerness. "You're right. I guess I just get excited at the idea, and forget it can bring trouble, too."

"I'll say." Rickon chuckled, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. "But I can't blame you for wanting to do it yourself."

"I've heard the stories from those who were with him. Mjoll, especially. She says that it's a scary thing to see." Bran said, to which Sansa nodded in agreement. "I'm just glad he's such a good man."

"Indeed." Catelyn agreed before looking towards the long trench table at the other end of the hall before glancing back at Nesy and her family. "Come, you must be starving after such a long ride, and I'm not as young as I used to be."

"You don't look a day over thirty Namedays." Nesy was quick to say, to which Catelyn laughed and shook her head at the girl's kind words.

"You're too kind, Nesaerys. It's good to see your father's silver tongue was passed on just fine."

"And from the noises coming from his chambers, it does wonders elsewhere," Farkas whispered to Vilkas. Vilkas had the decency to cover his mouth and stifle his chuckle at his brother's words, even if he knew all too well it was the truth.

Sansa only smiled and shook her head at the pair of Companions, guessing all too well what they had said to each other. Despite the true reason she was here at Winterfell, the elder Stark and mage was overjoyed to be home again, surrounded by her family, both new and old. It was truly good to be home.

Once Nesy and Eddard had turned in for the night, in beds halfway across the castle from each other, much to the twins' amusement, only then did Sansa and Bran approach the bodyguards and subtly jerk their heads to a nearby empty chamber. They nodded in understanding, getting the hint before having another royal guard take their place in front of the princess' chamber. Once the door was shut and Sansa had put a silence spell over the room, ensuring their words wouldn't be heard by anyone else, only then did the mage lock eyes with the twins. "We have a problem brewing."

"We've heard rumors of trouble all over the kingdom m'lady." Vilkas started. "In both Westeros and Essos."

"Uprisings, cults of fanatics, and more. What's happening up here though, lady wolf?" Farkas asked, his arms crossed and his back against the door.

"We've gotten reports of strangers wandering the countryside, especially near the Dreadfort." Bran said and pulled out a sealed parchment, bearing the Thieves Guild insignia before he put it back into his clothing with a simple flick of his wrist. "I wanted to talk to you or whoever came with Nesy before I sent it off."

"To confirm your findings, I imagine. Smart lad for one of Varys'." Farkas chuckled and nodded his approval.

"Brynjolf's." Bran corrected Farkas. "Some things don't change, and not trusting an eunuch is one of those. Besides, he might work for Nakos, but he also served the Mad King Aerys, King Robert, and King Joffrey. That alone doesn't endear me to the Spider."

"I can understand your concern," Vilkas began and stroked his chin in thought, "but things have changed for the better. You know this better than anyone, young Bran."

"Perhaps, but I have to agree with my brother, Ser Vilkas. The fact the Kingslayer is part of Nakos' personal guard doesn't sit well with me, either, even if he has done nothing since to deserve my mistrust." Sansa said in turn, making it clear she was still a bit sore about Jaime Lannister pushing her brother out of a window.

Bran nodded. "Well, better safe than sorry." He handed the letter to Vilkas. "Make sure this gets to Nakos. He would want to know what's going on here, especially, if his daughter his here up north."

"I'll have it gone by morning, I promise." Vilkas said, making a mental note to have one of the royal messenger birds ready to fly as soon as he left this room. "Is there anything else, young wolf?"

"No, just watch yourselves and Nesy. I have a bad feeling our troubles are just beginning." Bran said, and looked towards the window, where they could hear the caw of a raven. They immediately thought the same thing, and shivered as a wave of cold went down their respective spines.

Turdas, 18th of Evening Star

Red Keep, King's Landing

The Black Cells

Margaery Tyrell sat uncomfortably on the stone floor of one of the Black Cells. She had heard stories about them, but she had always thought they weren't as bad as they were made to sound. Few things were once they had passed from mouth to mouth across multiple people after all, but this wasn't the case this time. The Black Cells were as horrible as they were described. It was bad enough she was locked up regarding the farce of the trial the High Sparrow and Cersei had put together, but it was the utter silence and darkness that was truly getting to her. Never before had she experienced such a sense of dread and helplessness before, and nothing had even happened to her really. She was fed regularly, her slop bucket was emptied, and she was given just enough chain to move around as she wished, allowing her to stretch her legs, but none of that helped with the feeling of complete isolation. Despite the silent wink from Nakos, she was beginning to doubt whether he was actually doing anything to help. The passage of time was lost down here, so she did not know what day it was, if it was morning, noon, or night. If she'd been down here a few days or a few weeks. She just did not know.

The door to her cell opened and her heart skipped a beat, thinking that Nakos had finally come. She was sorely disappointed, and then enraged, when she saw the ever smug look on the blonde's flawless face when she saw who it was: Cersei Lannister.

Cersei walked into the cell, holding up a handkerchief to her nose. "This is horrible. Unacceptable. Are they feeding you enough at least?"

Margaery did not respond. She had nothing to say to this bitch.

"I brought you this," Cersei continued. "Venison. It's quite good. I had it myself for supper only last night. We did everything we could from the moment they took your brother. Nakos even went to the sept himself to confront the High Sparrow, but I fear The Faith has left reason behind."

Margaery knew that was a lie. Well, she knew Cersei hadn't done a thing to help anyway. If anything, Margaery was certain she had had a hand in this madness, and said as much. "I know you did this."

"Nakos and Daenerys are making every effort on your behalf. I swear to you by all the seven gods."

"Lies come easily to you," Margaery sneered, ignoring the half truth for what it was. "Everyone knows that. But innocence, decency, concern? You're not very good at those, I'm afraid."

Cersei feigned a sigh of concern. "You're upset. You're not thinking clearly." She turned to walk out. "I'll visit again when you've had a chance to calm down."

"I don't want to see you again." Margaery spat out and stood to her feet so quickly the chain wrapped around her foot clanked and jangled against the floor.

Cersei turned back. "I do hope you change your mind about that. I've been told men often go mad in the Black Cells below the Red Keep, but I suppose your isolation will end once your trial begins."

Margaery's face turned into a snarl. "Leave."

Cersei let the tiniest hint of a smug smile pull at her lips as she started for the door. "Yes, I'm afraid I must."

"Get out, you hateful bitch!" Margaery roared, on the verge of trying to lunge at the smug Lannister despite her bondage.

"Sleep well, Lady Margaery." Cersei turned and walked out and Margaery knew Cersei was smiling.

Margaery slumped against the wall, turned to her side and tried to fall asleep in order to forget what had just happened. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Cersei had gotten under her skin, had made her begin to doubt Nakos' commitment to get her and Loras out of this situation. Cersei had won, and she hadn't need to kill anyone to do it. She didn't know how much time had passed, it could have been minutes or hours, before the door opened again. Margaery jerked up, half-expecting Cersei to be there again.

But this time, there were several hooded figures standing at the door. "So… Cersei sent you here to kill me." It wasn't a question.

"Not today, Lady Margaery," One of the figures said. "We're here to get you out of this place. You and your brother both."

"And why should I believe you?"

Another hooded figure walked forward and took off his hood and mask. Margaery's eyes went wide. "Your… Your Grace?" When she recovered, a small smile pulled at her lips. "This answers a lot of questions."

"I imagine it would." Nakos chuckled before pulling his hood and mask over his face again. "First, can I trust that you keep this a secret? Westeros does not need to know their king sneaks around in a hood and mask in his spare time. I'd rather it didn't become common knowledge."

"Of course." Margaery agreed without hesitation, both to his request to keep this between them and for the fact that no one needed to know. The King had the right to do as he wished, and Nakos must have had a good reason for running around as a robed assassin.

"Excellent. Then let us get that manacle off you and get moving." With a simple nod, Nakos stepped back and let one of his men approach.

One of the figures walked in and took a lockpick out, began to pick the lock to the chain. With a pop, the manacle came off. "There ya go, m'lady. Free as a bird once more."

Nakos handed her a sack. "I think you may want to change out of those rags first."

Margaery looked in the sack to see some clothes. They weren't her normal royal clothes, but right now, it was better than the rags she was wearing. She quick ducked back in the cell to change and when she came out, Nakos took her by the hand. "Try to stay close." Margaery only nodded before doing her best to keep up with the King.

"Remind me to thank you once we're out of here." She whispered, mindful of the fact they wouldn't want to be caught by the guards that were surely patrolling the dark dungeons.

"No thanks are necessary, Lady Tyrell." Nakos chuckled softly. "I'm just sorry it took so damn long to get to you and Loras." He replied just as another of his men lead a grateful Loras out of a side passage and into the main group. "Ser Loras."

"Thank you, whoever you are." The young man said before embracing his sister tightly, albeit briefly. "Gods, I thought this nightmare would never end."

"It'll be over soon, my dear brother." Margaery promised before pulling away and nodding to Nakos. He only nodded back, keeping his identity secret from the knight. Margaery he trusted, Loras however he didn't, but only because as harmless as his relationship was with the traitorous Olyvar, it had been his mess that had gotten them here in the first place. Time in the Black Cells wasn't enough of a punishment, and a subtle glance towards Nakos before he turned away to lead them out of the dungeons suggested they were of the same mind.

A few moments later, they were out of the cells and out into the open again. It was night outside, but Margaery was never so happy to breath the fresh air again. Unsurprisingly, there were three horses waiting for them. Their grandmother was on one of them. The moment Loras was within arm's reach, Margaery had to bite her tongue when Olenna slapped the young man across his cheek. "That's for getting all of us into this mess in the first place!"

"But grandm-"

"No buts! Not another word!" Olenna hissed, her tone brooking no argument whatsoever. Loras looked down and rubbed his sore cheek, having a feeling her handprint would be there for days.

"Ser Loras," Nakos said, disguising his voice in a lowborn accent, and the Knight of Flowers turned around. "Is there anything else we need to know? Anything else you've hidden from His Grace?"

Loras looked thoughtful for a moment, despite the red welt on his cheek. "Nothing comes immediately to mind, Ser. But...if I think of anything, I'll be sure to tell him. I owe him my freedom, as well as that of my sister."

"What about Olyvar?" Olenna asked as Loras and Margaery mounted up. She looked away for two seconds and saw that all but the disguised Nakos remained with them. She blinked, confused by the other assassins' sudden disappearance, but she let it go.

Nakos smiled, though it was hidden by his mask. "He'll no longer be a problem."

Loras wisely held his tongue, knowing a threat when he heard one. Olyvar had betrayed him sure, but….death in his opinion seemed a little extreme. "But what about my position in the Royal Guard?" Loras asked. "Would His Grace strip me of that title because of what happened?"

"Your rank should be the least of your concerns right now." Nakos replied without looking over his shoulder. "I will talk to His Grace and pass your question onto him. He will send you his answer, but for now, we have a safehouse for you to stay in. If he allows you back, then so be it, but if not, I can only assume you will be headed back to Highgarden for your safety."

"But…" Loras began, but a hard glare from both Olenna and the masked Nakos silenced him on the spot.

"Do not concern yourself, Ser Loras." Nakos said with a dark chuckle. "This will be rectified soon…"

Meanwhile...

Olyvar was busy counting out his coin from his payment from Cersei in one of Petyr's old brothels. They were his now, having earned them through the past ten years. He had learned from the best conman in the business, and he knew the value of both coin and information because of Petyr Baelish. When the offer had been made to cause trouble for Nakos and his followers, Olyvar had jumped on the opportunity. They were responsible for Petyr's death, after all, and while the man hadn't really acknowledged Olyvar openly, he had looked up to Littlefinger. Petty revenge like this was good enough for him, for now, but Olyvar had plans to do more if given the chance.

"One thousand gold dragons? I thought betraying your King and country would have been worth more. I'm disappointed." Olyvar gave a gasp and turned around on his heel, but he was far too slow when a dagger stopped just shy of his throat. He could not see the assassin in front of him, but felt the dagger. "Before I gut you, I just want to know one thing. Why?"

"Nakos had my best friend killed," Olyvar answered quickly. "Petyr Baelish."

"The fraudulent Master of Coin? The reason the crown was so far in debt? You idolized him?" A laugh came from the shadows, and it unnerved Olyvar.

"He did more for me than anyone ever did." Was Olyvar's explanation.

"I see. That explains why you would die for him, and why you would risk so much for so little. You thought you were smarter than you actually are. Like him, you overextended yourself, little mockingbird. This time it'll cost you."

Olyvar opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped short when the dagger ran against his throat. Instead of words, blood poured past his lips and down the front of his blue open vest before he fell to the ground at the assassin's unseen feet. The assassin stepped over his body, avoiding the blood, and took the money. "I think someone else would benefit more from this."

That morning, when Cersei sought out her informant for another job, she was greeted by the sight of Olyvar hanging from the ceiling. She felt all the blood leave her face when she saw the symbol of the black hand carved into his chest, with a single word carved into his flesh. "Traitor." On the desk, she found a note with an inky black handprint, addressed to her. On it, it said. "We know. You're next." She never ran out a room so fast in her life.