"You're asking too much," one of the negotiators said. "You can't expect us to give you half our stores of weapons. Our men require them as surely as you do."

"Your men won't need them if they're dead," Arya reminded him. "You can give them or we can take them." She wasn't going to back down. Norvos was famous for its axes and half their stores would be a valuable commodity.

"We?" an emissary scoffed. "Don't you mean, 'they?'

"I don't understand your meaning."

He stood from his chair, causing Jorah and Arya to do the same, with Daenerys and Missandei following after. "I mean look at you." He held out his hand toward Arya, unimpressed. "You may dress like one of them, but you aren't one of them. None of you are," he observed raking his eyes from person to person.

At his words, she looked down at herself. She was dressed as she had every day for years, in the traditional clothes of the Dothraki. She wore tight, faded brown leather pants, with matching strips of leather crossing her chest, covering her breasts. "Careful."

"Three women and an old man don't inspire fear. Which one of you is in charge anyway?" he asked rhetorically.

Arya was nearly ready for blood when Daenerys's heated hand on her wrist kept her still. "My wife is the Khal, she's in charge," she said confidently, so sure in her words that Arya actually wondered if they might be true.

"Wife?" he repeated. "You people have been living out with the animals too long. None of you are Dothraki."

Daenerys chose that instant to lean over and whisper to Missandei. When they separated the translator took the reins of the meeting, likely so Daenerys could spend all her energies on keeping Arya calm. "Because the Khaleesi is generous, we are willing to accept a third of the weapons in your armory, in addition to the agreed upon horses and goods."

When it looked like he was intending to refuse, Jorah made his opinion clear. "We have tens of thousands of men. It would be a massacre and we all know it. Take the offer, it's the best one you're going to get today."

The emissary and his grey-haired commander led them out to the gate, where their horses had been fed. "We've got a deal, but I expect you to honor your part. You and your horde leave Norvos is peace."

Arya clicked her tongue against her cheek to get her horse moving. "Don't worry, you and your pathetic little city will be safe, but if your tribute isn't waiting outside the gates at sunrise it won't stay that way."

"Threats aren't necessary," Doran said diplomatically.

"I'm still not certain you actually lead them. Why would a horde of illiterate savages follow you?"

"Betray us and you'll see exactly how many of the men will follow me, because I'll lead them right through your gates." She smirked at his horrified expression. "Don't look so stricken, if that happens, I'll make sure you die first."

R-C

In the months since Ryn's death two other khalasars had joined theirs. With nearly one hundred thousand men ready for battle, they were the envy of every khalasar, from one side of the Dothraki Sea to the other. Their growth had been remarkable. She saw progress in almost every direction she looked, except Arya. Oh, she progressed daily as a ruler and a warrior but she remained unwilling to barter in their private affairs. She still refused to sleep anywhere but the floor and Daenerys had had enough.

She spent the evening drinking expensive wine with Missandei and then she retired to her tent to wait. If recent history was an indication it would be hours before Arya joined her. During that time, she read from her books on Westeros and continued to enjoy her wine.

By the time Arya arrived, Daenerys had stopped reading and drinking and had moved on to pacing. With her thin arms folded over her chest, she crossed their tent again and again.

"Khaleesi, what are you doing?" Arya slurred. Daenerys wasn't the only one who had been drinking. "You shou'd be in bed."

"I'm not using the bed tonight," she explained, "not unless you do too."

Arya turned her head to look at the bed and drunk as she was, she wobbled, teetering back and forth. "Daenerys," she said in a sing-song voice, wagging a finger. "We ta…talk'd bout that."

Now that Arya was accounted for, Daenerys went to her side of the bed and began getting undressed. She pulled back the fur blankets and the paper-thin silk sheet. "Join me in the bed or I'll join you on the floor," she proposed. "The choice is yours."

Arya who had been uncoordinatedly attempting to untie her boot froze at those words. "Da…Daenerys."

"Stop!" she demanded. "You say I'm in the real Khal, that I'm the one in power and that you only serve me? If that's true, you won't refuse me, will you?"

She knew she was playing dirty. Arya was drunk and tired. Otherwise, she likely could have held off Daenerys's attempts to share the same bed for another decade.

With a roll of her grey eyes, she relented. "One night," she said holding up a single finger to emphasize the extent of her concession. Daenerys was already plotting her next argument to persuade when the words reached her mind. Her violet eyes widened before the younger woman shrugged and held an unsteady hand out over the bed. "Let'sh go," she slurred. "It wasa long day."

As they climbed on opposite sides Daenerys could feel the tension in the tent. In a quest to lighten things up she tried to joke. "Don't worry, I won't take advantage of you in your sleep."

Arya already had her back to Daenerys, but she still heard what sounded a lot like, "It's not you I'm worried about."

Without concern for their naked bodies Daenerys wiggled closer to her companion. One of her arms snaked around the scarred woman's waist, holding her. Motivated by the words she still heard echoing in her ears, she felt encouraged enough to jest again as a smile stretched the limits of her face. "Did you say something, sweetheart?"

After a particular vulgar Dothraki curse Arya covered her head with her arm. "Nuthing," she mumbled. "I didn't say nuthing."

R-C

It felt strange, waking up on a soft bed instead of the familiarly hard ground. For a fraction of a second she didn't know where she'd be when she opened her eyes. Would she be in Essos, the exiled girl turned Khal or had it all been a dream? Would she be back in Winterfell, a young girl again, oblivious to the horrors of the world? Somewhere near the bed she heard voices, soft and considerate, whispering to keep from waking her. "Are you sure it's wise to go without her?"

"We'll take Ser Jorah with us," Daenerys promised. "Arya's been raiding so much lately, I want to give her a chance to recover if she needs it."

"At least she's in the bed," Missandei noted, "that's something."

"It really is quite comfortable," Arya supplied as she opened her eyes and looked at the two women. Daenerys was sitting on a wooden bench, facing a mirror and Missandei stood behind her back, braiding her hair.

"Arya, I'm sorry, we didn't mean to wake you," Daenerys said after a chuckle.

"You didn't. Now where were you two whispering about going?" She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, the blood-red sheet pooled around her waist.

"We're not far from the city. I want to take a look around, before moving on."

She stood, stretching her back muscles. It didn't escape her notice that she felt better after a night in bed than she typically was after a sleeping on the floor. Missandei who was putting the finishing touches on the Khaleesi's hairstyle gasped when she saw Arya's scars in their entirety.

"If you want to go Khaleesi, say so. We can surround the city in an afternoon."

With a laugh, she got up from her seat and walked to where Arya was splashing some water on her face. She put a hand on her friend's tense shoulder. "I want to go to the market Arya, not overthrow their government. I won't need the khalasar, in fact, you should take them training. I know how much you all love a chance to compare your swords."

At her joke Missandei lost her composure and laughed. She quickly recovered, turning her head away, covering her mouth with her hand and trying to hide her outburst behind a cough.

After a playful glare in Missandei's direction, Arya turned her full attention on Daenerys. She had managed to get on a pair of pants, but was still in search of some fragment of material that could be used as a shirt. "They certainly won't need me for sword comparing, will they?" Was it her imagination or did Daenerys's eyes trail down her body to the front of her riding pants?

"I'll be fine you know."

"You can't go alone, and as you've said the Dothraki will be training."

"I never intended to go alone. Missandei will be there and Jorah. More than enough security for a little shopping."

"I think I'll accompany you all the same," Arya decided.

Missandei took that as her cue to leave. "I'll go and prepare."

While she gathered up the things they'd need for the day, she heard Daenerys moving about behind her. She wasn't ready for it when she felt two deceptively strong arms hugging her from behind. "Thank you for staying with me last night."

Arya turned inside the embrace, looking down at the older woman. "It was the least I could do."

"I'm grateful," she assured her quickly. Then before Arya could comprehend what was happening Daenerys was lifting up onto her toes, and leaning in. One of her hands gripped the back of her top, the other tangled in her hair.

"Wa..wh…Dan…" she stammered before Daenerys's warm, moist lips closed the remaining space. Her eyes closed without permission and then rolled back in her head. How many times had she imagined Daenerys kissing her? Countless she'd wager and in all those fantasies she never came close to the reality. Her usually steady legs felt like a newborn colt and the fire she felt on her cheeks and neck had to have been coming from the Dragon blood. She scrambled away, tripping and stumbling until she reached the tent's opening. "I… uh… I should probably go check on the horses."

R-C

"Did something happen?" Missandei inquired as she rode on Daenerys's left. Arya led the group far out in front, while Jorah and a handful of Dothraki protected the rear.

Before she answered, she had a quick look around to ensure they wouldn't be overheard. Aware of how impossible it was to dissuade Missandei, she tried in a feeble attempt anyway. "What do you mean?"

She laughed humorlessly. "You know what I mean," Missandei challenged. "When I left your tent you were smiling together, jesting and basically appearing very much in love. Now she won't look at you, and your mood is worse than hers."

Daenerys sighed. "I kissed her," she admitted in High Valyrian.

She reached out and put a hand on the Khaleesi's bare arm. "You did? I thought you meant to take things slow."

"I did, I do, oh I'm not sure. I hadn't intended to do it, I only meant to kiss her cheek, to thank her for using the bed but the next thing I know I've got my arms around her," Daenerys confessed.

"How was it?" the former slave wanted to know.

"I want to do it again, regularly."

"And then what happened?"

Narrowing her eyes, she glared in Arya's general direction. "Nothing," she recalled sadly. "She made up some excuse about wanting to check on the horses and she fled."

"She was likely just startled," Missandei predicted. "Once the idea settles, her mood will improve."

Daenerys was far less convinced. "Or maybe I'm simply not her type."

"You need not worry about that," Missandei declared with confidence. "I've seen the way she looks at you when she thinks no one is watching. Anyone with eyes and many without could see how she feels."

"I'm not so sure…" she began, but her words slowed and stopped all together when she noticed Jorah had past then. Instead of remaining behind them, he was now side by side with Arya.

"What do you think they're discussing?" Missandei asked with false innocence.

She shook her head and wiped some sweat from her forehead. "I don't even want to begin to speculate." The easy chat with her friend forgotten, Daenerys struggled to keep her eyes on the path in front of her, and away Jorah and Arya.

As was rapidly becoming custom Missandei knew exactly what the Queen needed. "Why don't I go and keep Arya company for a few minutes. I'll send Jorah back here to you."

"That sounds like a great idea," Daenerys agreed. "Thank you." Jorah had never liked Arya, but it was far worse now that the younger woman had come into power. He may have been knighted by a King, but it was Arya Daenerys turned to when she needed protecting, it was Arya who killed and risked her life for their people. She could tell it was getting harder and harder for the proud Mormont to overlook his limited role. That's why she was thrilled to take Missandei up on her offer. She couldn't force Arya and Ser Jorah to like one another but she could limit their chances to kill each other. Now, she just had to hope Missandei reached them in time.

R-C

"You shouldn't take it personally," Jorah said as he brought his horse in step with hers.

"Excuse me?"

He smiled slightly. "You wouldn't understand, you've never been in love. If you had, you'd understand moods like the one she's in today are to be expected when someone is grieving."

She didn't want to hear this. She hadn't asked for his opinion or advice. She hadn't asked Daenerys to kiss her either, although she hardly found that difficult to tolerate. Pleasurable as it was the guilt was stifling. When had she become such a wretched thing? Drogo had saved her life, protected her and taught her and she rewarded him by lusting for his wife. She was lucky he was dead, because if he weren't, she was confident he'd demand revenge, and rightly so. He tasked Arya with guarding the woman he loved most and she'd taken advantage of her and her grief. It was shameful.

Digging her heels into the side of the horse she urged him to go faster. "I'm still not sure what you mean."

"Ser, would you mind riding with the Khaleesi for a few minutes? There is an urgent matter she'd like me to discuss with Arya."

"Of course, not."

Arya said nothing until Jorah was well out of hearing range. "Did she really send you?"

"She did."

"With an urgent matter?"

Missandei's wide smile gave her away. "Maybe I overstated things slightly, but what choice did I have? I couldn't allow you and Jorah to kill each other before we reached the market. Then what would become of Daenerys's plans for the day?"

Arya barked out a laugh. From the first day they met, she'd always had a fondness for Missandei. It wasn't her obvious intelligence, or her will to survive that endeared her to the Northern woman, but rather the sense of selfless bravery she didn't seem to realize she had. In only months, she positioned herself not only as one of Daenerys's most trusted advisors but also her best friend. "Your secrets are safe," she vowed. "You're much better company anyway."

They rode in companionable silence for several minutes, until the first glimpse of the city appeared in the distance. "What will you look for?"

Arya answered without needing to think about it. "Something sharp."

R-C

She was almost ready to leave. They'd been wandering lazily around the market for several hours and it was growing late. She bought all manner of things, tools for the camp, baubles for herself and even a gift for Missandei.

Using some of the gold from their most recent raid Arya bought a variety of weapons for her loyal commanders. The Dothraki had little use for goods bought with coins but exceptions could always be made, especially in the case of high-grade weaponry.

"Come one and all!" a merchant shouted. "Trinkets from across the sea." A middle-aged man standing on an upturned crate waved his hands to get the attention of the crowds. "Get your own piece of history, items crafted for the Seven Kingdom's greatest houses."

She'd largely had her fill of shopping for the day, but she made her way to the table anyway. Arya, Missandei and Jorah were all close, but occupied. Missandei was looking at a measure of silk to fashion a new dress, and Arya and Jorah were both admiring the weapons at two different stalls. In front of her, as promised were various toys, figurines and jewelry, organized by family. Her eyes roamed the gold, the silver and the copper, finding the three-headed dragons in the collection. Not far from the dragons she noticed the section devoted to wolves, running wolves, howling wolves, hunting wolves, even wolves with gems for eyes.

Around the merchant, was a group of four sell-swords, likely hired to scare away thieves. They ranged in age from sixty to less than half that. All wore simple, but well-used leather armor. While she browsed they loaded up unsold goods into a cart. The merchant himself tried to make one final sale before day's end. "Help you miss?" he offered climbing down from his perch. "Looking for anything in particular?" His eyes followed hers to the Targaryen jewelry. "That's some of my best work," he said addressing the necklace that had caught her eye.

"It's lovely."

Picking it up, he moved out from behind the table. "You look familiar. Do we know one another?"

"I don't think so," she said as she laid a handful of silver coins on the table.

"My mistake. Allow me?" He held out the jewelry in invitation and Daenerys nodded, reaching back to lift her hair.

By the time she realized she was in trouble, it was too late. She'd strayed from her guards and now was at the mercy of a madman. The soft hand that had been adjusting the necklace for her hardened and his thick fingers began squeezing at her throat. As she struggled, she noticed a pair of guards holding Missandei by the arms. Both Jorah and Arya and at least two Dothraki raced toward the merchant and the Khaleesi from different directions. Arya's path was blocked by a blacksmith and his cart of goods. Jorah reached them first. He drew his sword and cut down one sell-sword before a second threw a spear that hit in the upper part of his chest. His sword fell to the dirt and he followed soon after.

She heard fighting off to the side and knew the Dothraki had arrived, but with the merchant's hold so tight, she couldn't hope to turn and see who was winning.

"King Robert says 'hello,' the merchant turned assassin taunted as he continued to choke her. She thrashed and squirmed but he had the dominant position and little remorse.

The corners of her eyes were filling up with black spots as she tried to remain awake. She stomped his foot and although he cried out in pain several times, it was never enough to make him release her.

She heard the sound of the arrow cutting through the air and she felt the hot spray of blood against her face as it hit its mark. The instant she was free she was darting away. In her haste, she ran without a destination in mind until Arya caught her, still clutching a recurve bow in one hand. "Are you hurt?"

Daenerys didn't realize how dry and sore her throat was until she tried to speak. At first her attempts to be verbal only resulted in a fit of coughs. "I… I'm… I'm fine."

"Go check on Jorah," Arya suggested as she had a look around. The busy square was nearly empty now. The violence had scattered almost everyone, only the sell-swords opposed them. As she tallied up the carnage Daenerys realized just how wrong she'd been. It hadn't been the four sell-swords and the merchant-assassin as she thought, the number was closer to ten. If the Dothraki hadn't insisted to forgo training to protect the Khal and Khaleesi, her day likely would have ended very differently. She shuddered at the thought and knelt next to Jorah.

R-C

With Daenerys safe, Arya could put an end to the threat once and for all. Preparing another arrow, she took aim, at the cowards who used Missandei as a shield. "Let her go and I'll spare you."

They laughed together, unimpressed by Arya's offer. "Can't you count? We's got numbers and you're all alone."

When the men started laughing again, Arya joined in. She laughed and laughed right up until she released the arrow, sending it through the air and striking the sell-sword over Missandei's left shoulder. "You were saying?"

Enraged the man holding her pushed her to the ground roughly and stepped over her body. Arya yelled for her to stay down and then hurried to end the fight. When he swung his sword, she barely tried to avoid it, choosing instead to spend the time running her arakh across his midsection. The sword that cut her above her wrist clattered to the ground as he tried to keep his organs inside his body.

Confident he was dying she left him to it and performed a circle, searching for any survivors. Only one remained. He was doing what he could to hold the Dothraki at bay, but they inched closer to him with each passing second. She yelled for the warriors to leave him and they did. This was hers.

The final battle was the hardest. Whoever the sell-sword was he had been well trained and he had good instincts. They danced together, each one barely avoiding a handful of deadly strikes. For Arya that meant a new scar on her forearm, and a small piece removed from her ear, but her opponent was faring worse. He had been cut across the upper chest, at the wrist and the ribs. His every breath was labored and his once sure steps were wobbling.

"Mercy," he pleaded when he couldn't hope to fight any longer.

Arya kicked his weapon away and stood over him, arakh at the ready. "Who sent you?" She waited three seconds for the answer and when it wasn't forthcoming she kicked him sharply in his already damaged ribs. "Who was it!?"

He gagged and sputtered. "K…Ki…King Robert."

She gripped his hair and forced his neck around until he had no choice but to look at Daenerys. He groaned in pain but she was devoid of kindness. "King Robert sent you here to murder her?"

"Y…yes," he groaned.

Furious she kicked him again and then brought her fist down on the side of his head. "Did Ned Stark know?"

"What?" the terrified assassin asked as he attempted to cover his face.

She pressed down on his throat with her boot. "I said did Ned-fucking-Stark know Robert hired assassins?"

"W…what?" he choked out against her heel.

"Did he know?!" she screamed. "If I have to ask you again you're gong to suffer!"

"I don't know. King Robert gave me my orders."

"Fucking useless," she complained. She delivered one last kick to his battered body before she looked back to Daenerys for approval. The Khaleesi nodded and Arya obeyed. She swung her steel in a fluid arc that sliced through the air and his neck. While Missandei and Daenerys helped Jorah onto his horse, Arya went to work creating a spectacle, cutting up the bodies and coating the majority of the market square in blood and guts. Word would spread and then fear would follow. No one would soon forget this day.

R-C

She took a long pull directly from the bottle of liquor she was drinking. Her injuries had been tended to and she'd been sufficiently patched up but that didn't mean there wasn't pain. Days spent in the saddle took their toll at the best of times. Repeated violent fights over days and weeks ensured that even the most basic injury had significant risks.

Lying on the bed where Daenerys slept every night she closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing. When she heard footsteps, she first thought one of the women was bringing in fresh water. "Thank you," she said without opening her eyes, even knowing the Dothraki wouldn't understand her gratitude.

Daenerys answered with humor in her tone. "You saved my life again, I'm pretty sure I should be thanking you."

Her eyes snapped open and she was immediately trying to sit. "Daenerys," she said in a gasp, but the Queen was quick, coming to stand beside the bed. Leaning down she kept a firm hand on Arya's upper arm.

"Relax," she urged gently. "You've earned it." Her hand moved off her bicep to the newest mark that would scar. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine Khaleesi," she assured her, "and you?" Grey eyes met violet and neither blinked. "I'm sorry it took me so long to reach you." With a gentle touch, she ran her fingers over the side of Daenerys's neck which had already begun to bruise.

She sat down next to Arya and tilted so that her head was resting on the younger woman's shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for. You protected me just as you always have."

"King Robert…"

"Can wait until tomorrow," Daenerys interrupted. "Right now, I'm too thrilled that everyone is still alive to let Robert Baratheon ruin things."

"He tried to kill you! Send me to Westeros Khaleesi. Let me hunt for you and I'll end the dangers."

With her head still against Arya's shoulder, Daenerys reached for and took hold of her Khal's hand. "I have no doubt you could end King Robert's reign, but what would happen to me in your absence?"

Her eyes closed on their own as Daenerys's thumb rubbed the back of her hand. "No one would harm you. You'd be safe, the men would protect you until I returned. You have no need to worry."

"That wasn't what I meant."

For the second time in several minutes her eyes popped open in surprise. She looked to her right and saw Daenerys watching her closely. "What do…"

The words were cut off by the softness of Daenerys's lips moving against her own. Their only other kiss had been that morning and somehow it was better than she remembered. She kissed back, unable to resist, melting into the Dragon's touch. When they separated Daenerys was both blushing and breathing heavily. "I want you here, with me."

When she leaned in for another kiss Arya bent in the opposite direction, trying to regain control of things. "Daenerys, what are you doing?"

She smiled bashfully. "Something I've wanted to do for a long time."

"But Drogo…"

At the mention of her husband the smile was gone. "I miss Drogo and I'll always love him, but he's been dead for more than two years now. I've grieved and I've mourned, it's time I begin living again."

Arya wanted nothing more than to surrender to what Daenerys was proposing. She'd yearned for more than friendship from the Targaryen for ages and now it was possible. Still, she didn't know how to feel. She'd known Drogo, she'd respected him and risked her life fighting beside him. She would have died to save him and it felt wrong to bed his wife, even if she was willing.

Daenerys attempted to sway her by dropping kisses against the side of her neck and then moving up to her ear. "I think we've waited long enough," she announced between kisses.

She tried to squirm out of reach, but Daenerys was relentless. "You had a trying day," Arya allowed. "It's only natural…" her words slowed before they stopped all together. Arya had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. "Fuck," she hissed, "it's only natural for you to feel mortal."

"How very accommodating of you," Daenerys said sarcastically. "I'm not doing this because someone tried to kill me today Arya Stark. If that were all it took I would have gotten you into bed long ago."

"I won't take advantage of our…"

Daenerys cut her off again. "Perhaps I'm the one intending to take advantage of you."

This time as Daenerys's mouth lingered near her ear she couldn't hold the moan back. It slipped through tightly closed teeth and made it all too obvious just how affected she was. With determination she hated herself for, she pulled away from the talented mouth and stood. As her body responded to every action Daenerys took, she knew her time was limited. Soon, she wouldn't be strong enough to resist any longer, so she needed to get ahead of it. "If you're ready, I'm sure there are many men who would be interested. I'll begin sleeping elsewhere, until you choose a partner and then I'll step down as Khal and allow whoever you pick to lead."

"Very generous," Daenerys commented with a bitter undertone. "You can't be quite so stupid." Standing up she positioned herself between Arya and the tent's opening. "The only person I wish to share my bed with is you. Not because you're the Khal or because you continually save my life but rather because it's the first time since Drogo that I have been attracted to anyone."

Arya couldn't believe what she was hearing. Since the time when she was old enough to truly understand sexual desire, a large part of her had been attracted to Daenerys. At the time she was married and later pregnant. Not even in the years since had she allowed herself to think her feelings might be returned.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn't notice the pained expression that passed over Daenerys's beautiful face. "If you're not attracted to me however, I won't force you."

The seriousness of the situation not withstanding, Arya found herself chuckling humorlessly. "Of course, I'm attracted to you. It is one of the few things I'm certain of these days."

"Then what's the problem?" she asked, leaning in and stealing a kiss.

"What would Drogo say? He asked me to watch over you, not seduce you."

"You aren't seducing anyone Arya," Daenerys said with a laugh. "I've been trying to seduce you, but you haven't exactly made it easy."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, her cheeks heating and her eyes turning down.

Taking advantage of her conflicted feelings Daenerys put both of her palms flat against Arya's chest and pushed her onto the bed. Not expecting that she tried to stand, but was held down by Daenerys's body as she straddled her waist. She tried to protest but was silenced by a thin finger pressing into her lips. "Shh," she purred as her lips left heated kisses all over the upper part of Arya's chest. "I want you and I'm tired of waiting."

Her entire body responded to Daenerys in a way she had never experienced before. Bumps formed on her skin as if she were freezing, while sweat dotted her forehead and face. Her nipples hardened and her stomach tightened as she tried to resist. Daenerys kept up her onslaught, nibbling, kissing and licking any bare flesh she could reach.

When she couldn't deny it anymore, Arya gave in. With a growl reminiscent of her former pet she rolled them over, pinning Daenerys down under her body. She still felt guilt for wanting this, she felt shame for betraying Drogo, but that would all be waiting for her in the morning. In the moment, she had what she wanted and she couldn't deny her willpower was at an end.

From the bottom Daenerys gripped the back of Arya's head and pulled her mouth down for an overheated kiss. As their tongues fought for supremacy Daenerys wrapped one of her legs around Arya's strong core. "That's more like it," she praised before she bit down on Arya's bottom lip.

"No more talk," she mumbled, as she ground her lower half against Daenerys's.

"No more talk," Daenerys agreed.

R-C

Calling on her childhood in Westeros Arya prepared a neatly wrapped gift for Daenerys. The Dothraki rarely gave gifts and when they did they were never wrapped. Secretly she hoped that by making an effort Daenerys would not only like it, but use it.

She waited until they were alone, in their tent to present it to her. "I got you something," she said as she fetched the long, thin box from behind a chest of Daenerys's clothes.

The uniqueness of the occasion seemed to give Daenerys pause. "A gift?" You didn't need to do that."

"Yes," she assured her, "I did. After yesterday, it was most certainly necessary."

If she'd thought it through, she might have chosen different words. She hadn't considered how Daenerys might misinterpret the meaning. "Arya, last night was wonderful," she said as she took the box. She lifted up and pecked at her lover's lips. "You didn't need to get me anything."

Embarrassed. she blushed heavily. "I… uh, it wasn't for that."

She watched Daenerys's eyebrows rise before she turned her attention to the box now sitting in her lap. She untied the bow carefully and peeled the ribbon away before she removed the lid. Inside was an arakh, not unlike the one Drogo had once given her. "Um, thank you but I think it's probably best if you keep this," Daenerys said lifting it from the box and holding it in Arya's direction.

"Our battle with the assassins showed me that despite my best efforts, I can't always be there to defend you."

She hadn't been fishing for reassurance or affection but Daenerys gave her both, setting her free hand down on Arya's and following it up with words. "You did defend me, as you've always done. I couldn't ask for a better protector."

Using their joint hands, she moved Daenerys's hand to her neck and gently grazed over the bruises the assassins left. "I wasn't fast enough. If there is a next time, I want you to be able to stay alive until I can reach you."

"This isn't necessary," she said as Arya's hand and by extension hers lingered against her throat. Violet eyes fluttered and closed before she angled herself into Arya's rough hand.

"Please," she pleaded, her voice a whisper. "It would give me comfort"

"Very well then," Daenerys conceded. She pulled her arm back, no longer expecting Arya to take the weapon. She looked at the arakh with new eyes, testing the feel as she took a first, tentative swing at the air. "Are you certain this is the best choice?" she asked. "Dothraki warriors beginning training young and it still takes years for them to master the arakh."

Stepping back, she urged the Queen to stand. "It's the right choice," she promised, as she slipped in behind the smaller woman. When Daenerys took her next swing, Arya was there to correct her posture. As a result, her third attempt was much more fluid and natural than the previous two.

"How can you be certain?" she asked as she prepared to try again.

"You're Dothraki. There is no other weapon suitable for a Khaleesi."

Strong hands rested on Daenerys's hips and adjusted her stance as she began her first lesson. Just as she'd done with the hand on her bruised neck, she leaned in Arya's direction. "Do you train all our warriors like this?" Daenerys asked with a snicker as Arya's hands lingered.

Her hands wandered upward, moving from the smooth leather of her pants to her soft skin and then to the coarse material that covered her chest. "Not everyone gets this level of hands-on attention," she admitted as she took Daenerys's arm and adjusted her form.

She looked over her shoulder at her tutor, a devilish gleam in her eye. "I should hope not. I might grow jealous."

This time it was Arya's turn to fight back a laugh. How could Daenerys think such a thing? No other woman, no man could ever compare to her, it was unthinkable. "You needn't worry Khaleesi my heart is yours and yours alone."

The swing Daenerys had been taking halted midway through and the arakh dropped to the floor carelessly. At first Arya assumed she dropped it accidently and bent to retrieve it but her plans were thwarted when Daenerys took advantage of her being bent over and locked their mouths together. As the kiss grew hungrier Arya reached behind Daenerys and gripped her leather-covered ass. The sound and feeling of Daenerys moaning into her mouth nearly caused her to drop the smaller woman as she lifted her off her feet and carried her in the direction of their bed. "Lesson's over," Arya decreed as she laid her lover down.

"Good," Daenerys agreed with a wide smile. She took hold of Arya's belt and pulled her down to the bed with her. "I have a whole other form of exercise planned for us and believe me, you'll need your strength."

She was glad when Daenerys melded their lips together in another searing kiss. It made it impossible for Arya to embarrass herself by speaking openly, or by moaning lewdly in response to Daenerys's talented tongue.

R-C

It was amazing how quickly things could change. One minute she was enjoying her meal, happily listening to Missandei and Daenerys chatter on about one thing or another and the next she was up out of her seat, her dinner forgotten. Before any of the others at her table noticed Arya was shrieking her war cry, beckoning her Blood Riders to her side. They dropped their food and rushed to her, two of them still chewing as they arrived.

All around them, the khalasar had taken notice. Daenerys stood next to her, with Missandei on the other side. "Arya, what's wrong?" she asked, reaching for her lover's hand.

Using her chin, she pointed out a spot a mile outside the Southern borders of their camp. There, on horseback were six men. One held up the banner of his house. "They wait for us."

"How do you know?" Daenerys questioned.

"I just do," she answered vaguely. Looking to Kovarro she nodded. "Ready the horses."

He immediately went to do as he was told. Once he was gone she pulled her eyes away from the interlopers and gave Daenerys what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll take care of this."

"I'm going with you," she decided, glancing down at her hip like she wanted to verify her arakh was still there. They'd been training daily and Daenerys proved to be an insightful student. She'd never be a true Blood Rider, her heart wasn't in it, but Arya was confident that she could defend herself if necessary and that was enough.

"They're from Westeros," Jorah noted as he arrived at their side. "King Robert might have sent more assassins."

"If they meant us harm, I doubt they'd wait patiently for us to notice them."

"That's not a risk I'm willing to take," Arya said as she climbed up into the saddle.

"That banner…" Jorah started.

She didn't need to hear it, she knew what that banner meant. "It seems so," Arya accepted.

While the men were speaking, Daenerys demanded horses for her and Missandei. "Where you go, I go," Daenerys said calmly, as if her point of view was both rational and obvious.

Sensing defeat Arya threw up her hands and then pushed one of them through her long hair. "Fine! Stay near Jorah, don't take anything from them and if they try and touch you swing for the neck and don't hesitate."

"I won't," she vowed. When Arya gave her a skeptical look Daenerys only smiled. "I won't. I haven't forgotten my lessons."

She shook her head and moved her horse forward. She was ready to get this over with, whatever this was.

Whoever she expected to see under the Stark banner, it wasn't who was waiting for her there. He looked older than she remembered, his face had begun to show lines of age and his facial hair was colored with the first hints of greying. All the men wore castle-forged plate armor with the sigil of her family printed on the front. At least half the troops were senior, older than the man leading them.

When she led her group to the meeting, she noticed the banner beginning to wave. Looking at the man holding it, she noted he was the youngest of the enemy and seemed frightened by the Dothraki she led. He shifted back slightly in response, making Arya smile.

"So, it's true then," the leader of the Starks said. "I didn't believe it was really you." He smiled at her, while she stared emotionless in his direction. "Hello Arya," he said as his smile slowly fell from his face.

"Hello Robb," she answered, glancing to her right where Daenerys was watching. "Khaleesi, allow me to introduce Robb Stark from Westeros, my brother."