After the failed ambush the Queen's ships arriving in Westeros was relatively anticlimactic. While the camp was constructed Daenerys, Missandei, Arya and Nym walked about speaking quietly. Over their heads Daenerys's smallest child was paying them a visit, putting fear into the hearts of the whole Seven Kingdoms.

Shamelessly Daenerys reached for and took Arya's hand, binding them together. The action seemed to remind Arya that she wasn't alone, and she spoke. "Welcome home, your Grace," she said somberly.

Daenerys was far more interested in the woman at her side, than the lands she'd travelled months to reach. "Same to you, my wolves." Squeezing Arya's captured hand she squatted down and rubbed Nym's neck, earning a grateful huff from the overgrown child.

Later in her small council meeting Daenerys looked over a map of the world she meant to rule. They were hours from King's Landing, close enough to make Cersei uncomfortable while not being easily attacked.

"King's Landing can withstand a siege for a year!" Jorah reminded the group while they talked strategy.

Tyrion scoffed behind his wine. "A year, try five."

Barristan threw up his hands in exasperation. "We can't wait five years and according to all our spies very few openly oppose the Queen's rule, your Grace."

"Who opposes her," Daenerys demanded to know. "Perhaps I will take that chest of gold Cersei tried to bribe me with and use it to purchase some aid."

Arya stood in the rear of the room, watching more than listening, eyes sweeping for danger. She had paid enough attention to hear Daenerys's plan and the Stark had to admit, she was impressed. For a woman not skilled in the ways of war, her instincts were true; freeing the slaves, giving her soldiers the chance to go, and now using Lannister gold to pay for the swords that will slay the mighty Lion. She felt a wave of pride as she watched the woman set the law.

"Everyone appears to be afraid of Cersei, and rightfully so. One false step and her wrath could be deadly," Tyrion said as he read from his notes. "According to this," he said pointing out a particular line with a chubby finger, "only the Brotherhood Without Banners actively opposes the Queen as they seem to oppose everybody."

Arya's ears perked up at the mention. "What is the Brotherhood of Banners?" Daenerys asked.

Jorah put a hand on Daenerys's, on the table and gave her an indulgent smile. "The Brotherhood Without Banners Khaleesi, they are soldiers who have given up their rank and now live separately."

"They are deserters hiding from their troubles in the forest," Tyrion corrected.

"Are they good warriors?" she asked Jorah.

The knight reluctantly nodded and she looked to Tyrion. "Can we find them? If the people see I am here, perhaps they will be less afraid of their Queen and her guards."

"Khaleesi, please!" Jorah implored. "The Brotherhood left their armies because they no longer wanted to fight for royalty. Not only could we not trust them, they wouldn't even agree to meet with you."

Arya stepped up from the back where she'd been silent. "He's right," she said surprising the group. "They won't talk to you Daenerys, but they will talk to me."

Jorah looked on in disbelief. "You, and why would these men do that?"

She ignored the venom in his voice. "The man in charge of the Brotherhood is Beric, and he happens to owe me a favor, or two. I can't guarantee that he'll join us, but I can guarantee he'll consider it."

Up from her seat Daenerys took Arya by the hand and dragged her to the furthest corner of the small tent. Around the table Grey Worm, Missandei and Tyrion all shared knowing glances while the dwarf refilled their glasses.

"Are you sure of this? These men, are they dangerous?" Daenerys wondered, looking into Arya's eyes and softening. For a moment she stopped being the Last Dragon or the future Queen and allowed herself to just be Dany, and Dany was worried.

"It will be fine your Grace, I promise. These men are no more dangerous than I, I assure you."

With a light laugh Daenerys popped up onto her toes to kiss Arya's mouth. "At the table, in front of everyone I was Daenerys and now here, whispering and kissing in the shadows I am 'your Grace.'"

Arya blushed from the tip of her scarred forehead down to the bruised toes hidden in her boots. "It's the heat Daenerys. Wolves don't belong this far South."

With one final fond look and tender kiss Daenerys led her assassin back to the table. When they returned every member of the council seemed inherently focused on something other than them. When she was once again sitting she looked over to where Arya was and met her eye. "I do hope the heat isn't a problem for you," she jested, "I do like this place, and I was thinking of staying a while."

R-C

Daenerys and Missandei sat in chairs watching the training. It was fast becoming the Queen's favorite way to relax, sitting with her friend, enjoying some tea or perhaps a little wine and the amazing spectacle that was Arya. She marvelled at the way the fighter seemed to avoid even the most dangerous attempts. How her movements seemed trivial and wasted until the last second when she revealed the blade at her opponent's throat.

She'd become very close with the Blood Riders and now that all the ships had made landfall, Arya's lessons had expanded beyond only those people on the Queen's ship to the entirety of her army.

Jorah stood next to the Khaleesi. "Ravens have arrived."

She glanced away from watching Arya fight two Unsullied only briefly. "And?"

"Its as we suspected, King's Landing is locked tight and preparing for the siege. No one has responded to our request for meetings, they are all too scared of the Lannister."

"Very well, thank you Ser Jorah."

Noticing where Daenerys's focus was Jorah took half a step to his right and partially blocked her view. "About the girl."

"Her name is Arya," Daenerys reminded with some steel in her voice.

"Yes, yes, well I was just wondering when you intended to send this Arya back to Braavos where she belongs?"

For the first time Jorah had said something that pulled her focus from Arya. Standing up and facing him directly she crossed her arms over her breasts, letting the breeze off the water send her dress billowing out behind her. "Why Ser Jorah would I do that?"

Missandei stood too, uncomfortable to be sitting while her Queen was standing. "Your Grace maybe…"

With a smile to the worried woman and a wave Daenerys dismissed Missandei's attempt to defuse the situation. "Its alright Missandei, why don't you go see how Grey Worm's recovering, I heard Arya worked him hard this morning."

The handmaiden smiled indulgently, a look Daenerys mirrored. "No one was more pleased by this than he, Khaleesi."

When they were alone Daenerys's smile vanished. "Do you trust me Ser?"

Stunned by the question he answered anyway. "With my life."

"Then trust me now. Arya will stay for as long as she wishes to be here, just like you, Grey Worm, Missandei or anyone else."

"But that's not entirely true is it," he said, pushing back. "You purchased the girl in Braavos. You struck a bargain with these people Khaleesi, these assassins, you can not simply change your mind now. If you were told to return her after the voyage then you must," he advised.

Fire burned under her skin at his dismissive words, and disrespectful tone. Leaning into his space for a moment, in a move she learned from Arya, she forced Jorah to back up while she glared. Her words were so low they almost vanished on the wind. "I did not buy her," she spat coldly. "I hired her. She is paid like any other soldier or advisor I employ."

"And Braavos?"

"The House of Black and White will be compensated for their generosity as well," she said, barely keeping her ire hidden. "Arya will be free to stay or go. Will that be a problem?"

"Of course not," he answered, while avoiding her eyes.

By the time the unpleasant conversation was over the training had stopped. Moving through camp, she searched for the one face in the crowd she wanted to see.

Disappointment bloomed inside her as was forced to admit she couldn't find her. The Queen went to her tent, eager to chase reality away for a moment, with a book, a drink or both. Arya must be off with Kovarro or one of the other soldiers, she decided.

Needing to duck her head slightly to enter the tent, she was at a loss when she straightened up and found a steaming hot bath waiting for her. Next to the tub, waiting was not Missandei as usual, but Arya. Her hair had been trimmed so it was a little shorter, although it still hung uneven on one side, nearly reaching her eye. In addition, she was wearing new clothes, black pants and a crisp white shirt, both of which made her look fabulous. The final thing she noticed was a crystal vase, not unlike the glass Arya used to try and kill the Queen once. This time though the crystal was not only filled with water, but also flowers, an assortment of brightly colored wild flowers.

Daenerys covered her mouth. "Arya," she whispered.

Stepping forward at the mention of her name she smiled. "I hope you don't mind but Missandei was looking tired so Nym and I decided she should get a break."

"That's quite alright," she said, as she struggled not to laugh. Then another fact settled in her mind and her grin only grew. "Nymeria? She's here too."

With a whistle Arya brought the wolf over and Daenerys bent down to greet her friend. "Yes, so Nym and I thought Missandei could use a break, so I offered to help."

Looking up from where she was kneeling next to a content direwolf Daenerys smiled and licked her lips in a slow, teasing motion that heated Arya from her red cheeks to the pit of her stomach and below. "Is that so?"

Not trusting her voice all the Stark could manage was a feeble nod.

Straightening up she stepped around the lying beast and approached both Arya and the waiting bath. "That sounds great," she said reaching up for the shoulder straps on her dress. With Arya watching she pushed the fabric aside and let the dress puddle around her feet, before she stepped out, cutting the distance between them in half. "I am definitely in the mood for a nice, hot, bath."

Her mouth dry, Arya swallowed hard and cleared her throat before realizing she was still mute and resorted to another nod.

Taking a goodhearted pleasure in the Northerners discomfort she climbed the step with a sway of her hips, very aware of the intense eyes watching her every move.

Settling into the water she let out a sinful moan that had the wolf groaning in an attempt to maintain control.

Wet from the water she held out a dripping arm and pointed to the assassin turned handmaiden. "New clothes?" she asked conversationally, purposefully teasing the younger woman. "I like them."

Arya blushed and looked down at the clothes in question. While she'd never admit it, she'd spent far too much time deciding which items to purchase and even longer deciding which to wear. "If I'm going to be standing near a Queen, I can't allow myself to be seen in rags."

"Next to me," she corrected. "You'll be next to me, not near me Arya Stark."

"Yes, your Grace."

The Dragon rolled her eyes at the unnecessary formality. "Those clothes are very nice. We must be careful then."

"Careful?"

A wicked grin settled on her beautiful face. "Not to get them wet. We wouldn't want anything to happen to those nice new clothes."

Arya was at a loss, and stuttered as she struggled to comprehend. "I…ah… eh…I'm…"

As if she hadn't noticed Arya's unease Daenerys continued on. "Did you know Lady Stark that this bath was made big enough for two."

"T…two?"

"Of course, otherwise my handmaiden wouldn't fit."

With her mouth gaping like a fish, while she alternated between staring at Daenerys's wet, naked body and looking anywhere but.

With a giggle Daenerys pushed further. "Didn't Missandei tell you. You have to get in the tub with me Arya." Standing up as if to make room she rewarded the embarrassed killer with a view of her entire body shamelessly. "Otherwise how will you wash my back."

To punctuate the point Daenerys reached out, grabbed Arya's shortened hair and pulled her in for a kiss. This kiss was hungry and passionate, tongues battling, teeth clashing, heavy panting on both sides. When they pulled apart Daenerys grinned and cocked her head to the side in challenge. "Are you going to make me ruin those clothes?"

Finding courage Arya tried to sooth her racing heart as her hands moved. She felt foolish as she worked the first button open. How was this possible? She'd never felt so unsure about anything before in all her life, not even as a girl when her mother was still trying to mould her into Sansa.

Naked Arya felt more than a little self conscious as Daenerys held out a hand in invitation. Climbing in they stood together, Arya wet up to her knees only, while Daenerys continued to drip from everywhere. Arya's vigilant eyes noticed every single shining drop.

With another knowing smirk, Daenerys leaned into the Wolf's space and delivered a gentle kiss. "This will be much easier," she whispered against the soft lips. "You should really sit," she suggested as her hands settled on the Stark's shoulders. With a little pressure Daenerys lowered Arya down and as she sank the assassin scooped Daenerys into her arms before they settled into the warmth with their lips already melded together.

R-C

The next morning Arya wrote a note for the Queen, set it on the empty half of the bed and slipped from the tent. The sun was just starting to come up over the Seven Kingdoms when she rode off on horseback, wearing a cloak that matched her eyes.

As she left a direwolf ran beside her horse. It was a comfortable ride, for both knowing the other was close. After the first five miles Arya reluctantly sent Nym back to the camp with instructions to watch over Daenerys in her absence.

She missed the Dragon Queen already, but Arya had to try and find allies for her, even if that meant forgoing her own vengeance and tolerating Beric and Thoros. They would always be the one's who betrayed Gendry and she'd always hate them for that, but that didn't mean they couldn't be useful now.

After three days of travelling she caught a sign of them and took off. Each step the horse took dragged her closer to her home, while still keeping her so very far from it.

It was after nightfall when she arrived at the Brotherhood camp. Wearing her own face, she shrugged back the hood and kept her hands away from her sword. "Are you still as good as I remember with that bow Archer?" she asked, looking to the trees where he was sure to be hidden. "I mean you no harm. I'm simply an old friend."

She thought she was prepared, prepared to see Beric, to see Thoros, to put her hate for them aside for the good of the Queen but she wasn't ready to see the ghost standing at Beric's side.

In fact, the Hound was the last person she ever thought she'd see again.

"Who are you?" the leader demanded to know.

She looked from the one-eyed man, to the Clegane and back. While Beric was curiously cautious, the Hound stared at her face as if he didn't trust his eyes. "I was there the night you dueled you," she said, pointing to each man in turn. She scoffed. "What was that, the sixth time Thoros here brought you back to life?"

"Stark?" Clegane wondered.

"I see you're even tougher than I remember," she said with a tiny smile. For a moment no one moved and both the Hound and the Wolf relived the memory of their last meeting.

"Why have you come?" Beric asked, getting back on track.

"I crossed the Narrow Sea with the Dragon Queen," Arya explained. The looks of surprise were evident on every face, but none more than the Hound's. Beric invited her to the fire to talk and quickly offered her a drink.

"We were told that only the Brotherhood is openly opposing the Lannister Queen. Daenerys is looking for allies, so I thought of you."

Beric was quick to reply. "The Brotherhood doesn't take sides."

"The Brotherhood exists to stop the horrors of war, no matter who perpetrates them," she countered. "My Queen's men are not cruel, most are eunuchs, incapable of rape and freed slaves who have no desire to harm innocents. The Targaryen has no patience for such things and her justice is both true and swift.

"You're asking us to fight for her, to alter our beliefs," Thoros said as the fire began to dwindle, running his fingers through his beard.

"I ask you to alter nothing. You do what you can to stop the war from harming the smallfolk, and I'm giving you the chance to do exactly that. You can believe what you wish, but consider this, the war is here and the faster its over the better it'll be for all of us." When she didn't get the response she was hoping for she added this final barb. "Would you rather things remain as they are now?"

"A Stark fighting for a Targaryen. Do you truly believe in this Queen that much?"

The answer was immediate and came from the deepest part of her. "I do."

In the end Beric promised to consider the offer and they parted on good terms.

When she arrived at her horse she found the Hound sitting on a rock, polishing his sword. "I'll be there," he said with his eyes on the steel. "Whatever these idiots decide, I'll be there to fight beside you."

She offered him another tiny smile. "I'll see you there then." She mounted her horse and looked straight into his eyes. "I thought you were dead."

He chuckled darkly and turned his head, showing her his long, thin hair and the scar he tried so desperately to cover. "I thought you were dead too." The awkwardness hung in the air until he asked. "Still got your list of names?"

Arya smiled and moved her hand until it was resting on her sword. "Yep, but it's a much shorter list these days."

He grinned at her in that menacing way of his. "Any names left at all? Other than mine?"

She didn't tell him she'd considered him dead, or that she'd removed his name long before. Instead she just said, "One or two, but hopefully not for very much longer. You know who'll be there in King's Landing, near the Queen no doubt?"

Sandor looked down at his weapon again, still shining it. "Oh I know and I'll be ready."

"Gods willing."

R-C

When she'd woken up alone with nothing but a note and an extremely protective direwolf nearby Daenerys was furious. Regardless of what the note said she considered sending the Unsullied to find her before Missandei provided sage advice and talked her out of it.

With each passing day Daenerys's anger dulled and bent in the shape of fear. She left most aspects of governing to Tyrion while she paced about, watching the horizon for the missing killer. "She is strong Khaleesi," Missandei told her with a supreme confidence on the fifth night.

Daenerys, who had purposely avoided participating or watching any of the training in Arya's absence provided an insincere smile. "I know," she agreed, "but everyone dies, even the strong." In her mind she pictured the strongest man she'd ever known and how he laid so still and empty, trapped in his own body by the Witch's magic.

The handmaiden looked from the Queen to the direwolf who hadn't left her side in days. She smiled and risked petting the animal gently. "Wild wolves could not separate her from you, your Grace, she wouldn't allow it."

As strange as it seemed the woman's words warmed her heart and eased her suffering. "Come, let's go find Tyrion," she suggested. "I believe I'm late for my next lesson in the history of Westerosi politics."

"Sounds boring, your Grace," she commented, pleased to see her Queen smiling again.

"Supremely so," Daenerys agreed. "Which is why I'll need you and Nymeria to keep me company.

R-C

Returning her horse to the makeshift stable Arya was eager to ensure all was well. She hadn't addressed it but she'd had any uneasy feeling since the moment she climbed out of Daenerys's bed. As soon as she was close enough her eyes began searching for white hair in the masses. She found Grey Worm with ease, and heard Missandei in her tent. Jorah was sparring with some of the Unsullied, but their leader was hidden.

Silent, in case she was sleeping she entered Daenerys's tent. "Your Grace?" she asked ducking her head to enter.

The response came but not in the direction she was expecting. The Targaryen answered from behind. She turned and found an angry Dragon standing before her flanked by a direwolf who didn't look the least bit happy to see her either. "So you decided to return."

"Of course, as my note said…"

"I don't care about your note!" she shouted, bringing attention from all around them. Her expression remained hard, but her eyes softened. "I can't decide if I should have you fed to the dragons or if I should drag you into my tent and kiss you."

The loyal Stark bowed her head. "Whatever you choose, your Grace."

For a time, nobody moved, everyone watching, awaiting the decision. When someone finally did risk it, it was Jorah and Tyrion.

Surprised by the lack of protest, she gave the Northerner a quizzical look. "You aren't going to defend your actions?"

It was quiet for a moment, Arya's lips moving quickly with no sound coming out. When she did speak, she did so without looking up. "My actions have no defence Daenerys. I left without your permission. If you feel my sins warrant my death then so be it, you are Queen Daenerys Targaryen."

A soft hand, warm from an unseen flame touched Arya's cheek, moving up to the scar that marked her face. "You think I'm upset you left?"

Finally, grey eyes met violet. "You aren't?"

"I wish you'd told me what you intended to do, and you could have taken some troops with you, but I'm not upset you left Arya, I'm upset you could have been hurt. You didn't even take Nymeria with you."

With a shy smile Arya decided to take a chance and reached for Nym. The wolf, picking up on the moods around her didn't object but was still visibly tense.

"So you've returned," Jorah said, happy to interrupt the private moment. "And without the Brotherhood I see."

Arya didn't answer until Tyrion's shorter legs had caught up. "I spoke to Beric, the leader of the Brotherhood, he was loyal to m…" she stopped short of revealing her identity to Mormont. "Beric was a loyal Northman once, he will at least consider the proposal."

"So you brought back nothing!"

"Ser Jorah!" Daenerys reprimanded sharply.

A hand on the small of her back, told the Queen the defence wasn't required. She looked past Jorah to the dwarf. "Ran into the Hound on my journey, he'll be with us when the time comes."

"You saw the Hound?" the Lannister asked in quiet disbelief.

"I thought you said he was dead," Daenerys wondered.

"I left him bloodied and near death before I went to Braavos," she recalled with a grim expression. "I expected him to die, but apparently he's tougher than I realized."

"He'll be a helpful ally," Tyrion noted.

Jorah had heard enough. "How long have you been gone?" he asked suddenly, yelling loud enough to startle Missandei. "A few days back in the Seven Kingdoms and you think you can find allies and strike bargains. How long were you hiding in Braavos? You didn't take the gold with you, so how can you possibly convince sell-swords to fight for free?"

Arya was undeterred. Standing straight she stepped away from Daenerys. "I was away from Westeros far less than you Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island."

He tensed at mention of his former life. "The Northerners have their own way Khaleesi. Even if she is truly from the North, she can't simply return and expect they will follow her. Loyalties can shift. These men are deserters who can't be trusted."

With ice in her veins Arya refused to back down. "I am from the North," she insisted, "as are you, or you were before Lord Stark ordered you executed."

Eager to end the conflict Tyrion took Arya's hand and pulled her down to his level. "Killer, a question if you please." She bent down, while keeping her unblinking eyes on Jorah. "The Hound, I was just wondering, that horrific scar of his, is it still as grotesque as I remember?"

The women chuckled and Tyrion bowed for his efforts in entertainment. "Can we trust this Hound?" Daenerys wondered. "He did kidnap you once and tried to ransom you off…" she stopped looking to Arya to provide the number.

"Twice," she said honestly, "but that's water under the bridge."

"The Cleganes are loyal to the Lannisters," Jorah reminded them all. "Inviting him into our camp will bring you nothing but a sword in your back Khaleesi. Why would he fight without gold?"

"Because I offered him the one thing he wants more than gold."

Tyrion's face lit up in understanding but Daenerys was faster. "And what is that? What did you promise him?"

"The chance to kill his brother," she explained darkly.

Tyrion clapped. "Oh goody a Clegane family reunion. No war in Westeros is complete without one."

Satisfied that the details had been discussed Daenerys grabbed Arya's hand and tugged. When she looked to her Queen for clarification the Dragon provided only a playful smile. "Come on," she urged. "I've decided which of your two punishments I'd like to implement.

"Valar Morghulis Daenerys," she said with a wink. "Can I expect to survive this trip to your tent?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

R-C

Author's Note: Since I seem incapable of replying to reviews I'll settle for this, thank you to everyone who is still along for the ride.