GERION

"Tell me of Westeros, Prince Quentyn."

The Dornishman seemed anything but princely. He stood a solemn, stocky man, brown of hair and eye. Gerion could only recall Prince Doran Martell in the absolute vaguest of sense, but from what he did remember the young man shared his basic looks. And we have gone to all this trouble to make ourselves look presentable on his behalf.

Prince Quentyn took a breath. "Westeros has been suffering, Your Grace. The war between the Lannisters and Starks ravaged much of the Riverlands and some of the Westerlands. House Stark has, as far as anyone can say, been all but extinguished. Through marriage to Ned Stark's only surviving daughter and her offspring, the Boltons hold Winterfell and hold the grudging support of half the Northmen."

"And the other half?" the Queen asked, her face unreadable.

"The rest of the Northern lords have pledged fealty to Stannis Baratheon."

"The Northerners would fight for a Stormlander?"

Quentyn seemed somewhat uncomfortable, and considered his words. "After he was beaten back by Tywin Lannister and the Tyrells' combined forces in the South he gathered the remainder of his men and travelled north to the Wall. It was said that he gave aid to the Night's Watch against a Wildling uprising, and then later pushed the Ironmen out of the North. For that, he has their allegiance."

"So the Usurper's brother is stuck squabbling over the North," her purple eyes shone with something. "What of the rest of the Kingdoms?"

"It is said that the Lannisters barely have control anymore. The mad king Joffrey is dead, as is his Grandfather and Hand, Lord Tywin. Both murdered by Tyrion the Imp. The fat king Tommen sits the Iron Throne now, ruled by his wife Margaery Tyrell and her kin."

Gerion had to bite down hard on his lip until it bled to stop himself from saying anything when he heard that. Hearing the rumours about his family's disgrace in a tavern was one thing, but to hear them from a prince of Dorne was another. As always, a stab of worry came over him for Joy.

Prince Quentyn was still talking. "The Ironmen, led by Euron Crow's Eye, have set the western coast ablaze from the Neck all the way down to Oldtown declaring it their kingdom which no Greenlander may enter, the Citadel itself is at risk. The Lions have had no great naval force since the Greyjoys' first rebellion and now rely completely on the Redwynes to fight the reavers off." The prince frowned a little in concentration. "Of the Vale I know little and less, it has remained neutral in the conflicts and closed its gates to the outside world."

Daenerys smiled slightly. "And Dorne?"

"Dorne has been left mostly untouched by these wars, Your Grace. Through my father's careful planning, all the spears of Dorne lay unmolested, waiting for the rightful ruler to return." He motioned towards her. "You, my queen."

Daenerys watched the Dornishman carefully, lips pursed. Can we ever know what goes on inside that pretty little head of hers? Gerion knew her father, and all that had taught him was that the dragons were bizarre creatures. "Prince Quentyn," she said, soft and gentle as a lamb. "I think I know exactly what you and your kind father would ask in return, but I fear that the hour has grown late and that I am in need of rest. I would very much appreciate your company tonight at supper."

Quentyn Martell bowed. "I would be honoured Your Grace."

It turned out that the Queen's supper with the prince was not a strictly private affair, on one side of the large outdoor dining table sat the three Dornishmen and on the other sat Gerion, Rhaego and the Queen's interpreter Missandei. The long table was stacked high with delicacies: fish and shellfish, breads and pastries, fruits and cheeses, sweets and meats, all arranged neatly on gilded plates. Daenerys herself sat at the end of the table watching them all, Ser Barristan at her shoulder.

"Now, Prince Quentyn," said the Queen, pausing to take a sip from her tea. "The matter to which we spoke of earlier…"

The prince set his cutlery down and removed a parchment from inside his shirt. "This is from my father."

Gerion couldn't see what was written on the piece of paper, but he was careful to watch the Queen's expressions as she read and reread it. Likewise Martell was watching her anxiously, as though the letter contained his very life and death which would only be decided upon by Daenerys. A thought occurred to the Lannister then, something from one of the many history books he had read in his youth. The first Daenerys married into House Martell to unite the realms….

Finally the queen set the letter down and looked at him. "Prince Quentyn, I see that you and your family have waited a long time and have been the most loyal of vassals that House Targaryen could ever hope for….but I'm afraid I cannot leave my children at this hour."

"Your Grace…surely the people of Westeros need you as well." the Prince looked devastated. "You have heard how bad things have gotten. You and your dragons could save thousands of lives and wipe away these usurpers. Surely-"

Daenerys looked him straight in the eye, as fearsome as a true dragon. "I have thousands of people here in need. Each and every one of them faces the threat of slavery, mutilation, or death. I am their mother, and a mother does not leave her children to suffer."

A layer of sweat was forming on the Prince's forehead, his eyes looking about desperately. Whatever he expected Daenerys' response to be, it was not this. "But…Your Grace, you have enemies everywhere, riots in your own city. As we travelled here my companions and I saw numerous slave armies from Yunkai already on the march, perhaps even the fleets on Volantis will be on their way. You face only death here, but if you were to return to Westeros you would be welcomed as a saviour…"

"Do you have ships, Prince Quentyn?" her voice was soft spoken, but the fire was unmistakeable. "Does Dorne have ships enough for me to take my people west?"

Quentyn's face fell. "Dorne is not a naval power Your Grace…."

"Then I am afraid I must stay and defend my people."

The rest of the meal became quite awkward after that and they ate their meals in near silence. Gerion himself felt incredible uncomfortable sitting mere inches away from three angry Dornishmen, whose tempers were not known for people the most stable. Likewise Missandei also seemed to pick up on the deathly glares being thrown around and seemed to shrink down. Oddly enough Rhaego sat and ate completely oblivious from the hostility, a sight that was both comforting and disconcerting to the Lannister.

Eventually they were excused from the Queen's presence and with that all at the table began to move from their seats and return to the rest of their duties, yet as Gerion made to rise from the table he felt Rhaego's massive hand pull him back down into his seat, a scowl on his face as he nodded towards Queen Daenerys and Ser Barristan. "Seems we've a scolding to receive,"

The Queen kept her glare fixed upon them. "If you insist on acting like a child then you will be scolded like a child."

There was something in the set of Rhaego that made Gerion feel he was teetering on the edge of violence. It seemed as if his every smallest movement was the prelude to a punch, or a head-butt, or worse. As if his natural instinct was to throttle the woman before him and that it took constant effort to stop himself doing it, and talk instead. "You think you can cow me or my friends?" his eye sat fixed. "My axe might have something to say about that."

Ser Barristan frowned at Rhaego with all the disapproval his weathered face could muster. "You forget yourself; you speak to the Queen and your own mother besides."

Rhaego grinned, but there was no humour in it. "A fact that constantly haunts me, Ser."

Suddenly Gerion found himself feeling very uncomfortable, as though he was caught between two dogs set on savaging one another and tried to slowly edge away. What good will that do? She is queen of this whole city, and if she is displeased with me there is no place to hide…

His movements must have caught the eye of the queen and with a wince he slowly sank back into his seat. Her voice held iron tones. "Ser Gerion, since the moment you arrived I have always thought you to be a simple sellsword in my son's employ, a lowly knight come east to make a living." All sweetness left her face. "Ser Barristan has informed me that you have been keeping quite the secret from me. Isn't that so, Lannister?"

Gerion tried to look as comfortable as he could with a fiery death staring him in the eye and some of the best killers in the world standing before him, which wasn't that comfortable. He looked at Ser Barristan who gave him a sad wince. Gerion nodded back.

"Lannisters," Daenerys practically spat the name, which looked odd on a face as beautiful as hers. "You were all the Usurpers dogs, betraying my father and killing my family. Rhaenys and Aegon were little more than children when your kin savaged them." She gave him a frown. "And you had the audacity to try and hide yourself within my ranks? The treachery does not surprise me, but the stupidity does. Ser Barristan Selmy is the most honourable knight in the world, everyone knows that." Ser Barristan winced even harder, and looked away. "Although it would not surprise me that cannot fathom honour, Lannisters are all-"

"I knew he was a Lannister the whole time."

They all spun around to look at Rhaego, his one remaining eye watching them with a detached coldness that promised violence of some sort or another. "Soon as I met him, he told me his name. I didn't care, and he's been a faithful second the whole time since." The big man sucked at his teeth, a look vague disgust of his face. "Saved this rats-nest from Galare as well, in case you're forgetting that."

Daenerys purple eyes widened in surprise, or maybe outrage. Gerion wasn't sure either way. "You….knew? By the Gods why did you keep this man around if you knew what he was?"

Rhaego shrugged, uncaring. "I judge someone by individual worth, not by what family they have."

"And yet you brought him here? Into my court?" the Queen shook her head in anger before directing her glare back to Gerion. "Neither one of you told me of this, why hide your identity if not for some sinister purpose?"

Gerion tried to speak, and found his mouth had suddenly gone very dry. "I…you did not ask me what House I hailed from Your Grace, and I felt no need to tell you. I swear on the life of my daughter that I had no intentions other than trying to limit the bloodshed around here," he felt himself grow bolder. "And I did just that, I helped you root out the traitors in your court, I bled in the dirt for this city."

The big man at his side rumbled in agreement. "He's done us more good than harm, and I'll trust him more than anyone else in this court."

"Do you forget that this man's brother had your cousins Princess Rhaenys and Aegon slaughtered while their mother was raped to death, or the fact that his nephew murdered your grandfather?"

Rhaego shrugged again. "Names, not people. I did not know them and I do not grieve them."

Before anyone could stop her, Daenerys slapped her son hard across the face. The sound of it even made Gerion wince. Rhaego turned his face towards them, for a second a snarl appeared to be forming, but then his face went back to its feverish blank intensity. A crimson bloom formed beneath his bandages where she had slapped him.

"Rhaego I…"

Without saying another word, the hulking man began to unwrap the bandages around his head, blood staining his hands. For the first time since the accident Gerion got a clear look at the wound, and it made him regret having supper. The mad attacker had tried to carve out Rhaego's eye, stabbing the blade through the top lid and trying to pry the eyeball out from behind, in his haste he and his men were clumsy and the big half-Dothraki had managed to overpower them before they could continue. The result was a jagged scar that ran from the eyebrow down over the thin skin of eyelid and down across the purple, leaving it a milky colour. The rest of the scar seemed to pull downwards in an ugly line down his cheek. Even days after it had happened it still looked angry and throbbing, a shade of scarlet.

The lifeless orb settled on Daenerys. "Look at your work, Mother. Were the Meereenese worth it? I hope so, because they will be your end."