"They worship a horse? You can't be serious!" Vern shouted loudly. "That's strange even for savages."

Most of the khalasar had already entered the city, but Arya had held up the Northmen outside the border. "No stranger than praying to a tree with a face I suspect," she countered. "This is their Weirwood tree, their High Septon. You don't need to believe as they do, but you do need to treat their beliefs with respect. If you can't do that, I encourage you to stay where you are and wait for our return."

"We'll behave," Robb promised. She hadn't spoken to her brother since he stood over her bed with plans to kill her, and she was barely tolerating his presence now.

"If you violate the laws within the city they will kill you and I won't be coming to save you," Arya foretold.

"What laws?" Robb quizzed.

"It's against the law to draw a weapon or to shed blood within the confines of the city."

"These heathens have laws?" Vern said with a laugh that was echoed by one of the others.

"Vern enough!" Robb commanded.

Deciding that she'd wasted enough time on the men from Westeros Arya tied up her horse and entered the famed city, hurrying to catch up with Daenerys.

"Buy furs," she said as she snuck up behind her lover, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman's waist.

"For the bed?"

With her lips hovering near Daenerys's ear, she laughed, causing the other woman to squirm against her. "For a coat. None of you have ever been a place as cold as Winterfell, I can promise you that."

"I'll keep that in mind," Daenerys said turning around in the cage of Arya's arms.

"We have time if you'd like to climb up," she offered.

"We didn't come here for that," Daenerys said, looking away from Arya's face.

"Actually, we did," she disagreed.

"I thought we came for supplies."

"Two birds, one arrow Khaleesi. We should honor them."

The trip to the Horse Gate was sombre and largely quiet. It reminded her of the time they'd climbed the same path to burn Drogo and Rhaego's bodies, and every visit since. Arya reached the top first, standing at the ledge to give Daenerys a hand. She lifted her easily, and settled her down on her feet.

She knew Daenerys would need a moment to collect her thoughts and stayed back. In an effort to look anywhere but at Daenerys she happened to glance over the side and saw her brother climbing up, just as they had. As soon as he was on solid ground she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away, nearly shoving him over the side. "What are you doing?"

"I thought we needed to talk, about last night and…"

"Not now!" she hissed, looking to Daenerys who had dropped to her knees.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Stay if you want, but you'll be quiet and give her space."

"Is she praying?" he asked, breaking the first instruction almost immediately.

"What did I just say?"

Leaving her brother on the edge of the cliff she was completely unconcerned with if he would decide to stay or not. Her only thoughts were of Daenerys. She went to her side and knelt. "He loved you very much," Arya said gently. "And you would have been a terrific mother."

"I never should have made that bargain with the witch."

"You had to try," Arya allowed, hating the way Daenerys still held herself at fault. "Blame Robert. You wouldn't have had to barter with that crone if he hadn't tried to kill you."

"Maybe you're right," Daenerys said as she ran her hand over one of the horse's rear legs. "He always loved this place. I hope they found peace."

She couldn't help it, she chuckled at the thought. "I'm not sure if peace is what Drogo was looking for."

Daenerys laughed, looking away from the horses and showing her tearstained face to the Northerner. "No, you're probably right. I still miss them everyday."

Without thinking she put her arm around Daenerys's shoulders. The Khaleesi leaned into the embrace. "I know, I do too."

"He'd be proud of you," she declared confidently. "He'd be happy with how strong you made our people, how you defend us."

"I hope so," Arya said, unsure if she agreed with the sentiment. "I've tried to live up to his example."

"You've done well," Daenerys praised. "Our people are stronger than they've ever been thanks to you."

"I have the easy job," she said as she wiped tears from Daenerys's cheeks. "You get all the hard work."

With another teary laugh Daenerys stood and held out a hand for Arya. "We should probably go and find those furs."

"You go ahead. I'll be right behind you."

"I can wait," she offered sweetly.

"Go on," she urged, "I won't be long."

Kneeling alone in the dirt she balled her hands into fists. She spoke to the Khal who had been her mentor, hoping he could actually hear her. "I will go to Westeros and I will avenge your deaths," she vowed. "I will protect her with my life as you would."

She met Robb exactly where she'd left him. "What was that?" he asked as they began their decent down from the Horse Gate.

"That is the spot where we burned the bodies of her husband and son after your King caused their deaths."

R-C

After returning to the main city, Arya and Robb moved about the Western market. She scanned the tables of goods, hoping she'd know the right gift when she saw it. In the area selling the highest-end weaponry she slowed her steps. When she saw a table lined with small blades, she stopped completely. One by one she picked up the various deadly tools, testing their weight, getting a feel for how they felt in her hands.

"Don't you have enough weapons?" Robb asked, as he suggestively looked to her belt to prove the point. In addition to the arakh, she had two daggers, one strapped to the outside of each leg. Both short knives were bigger than the ones she was currently looking at.

"It's not for me."

"Daenerys isn't lacking for blades either."

Picking up a silver handled dagger she knew it was perfect. "It's not for Daenerys either."

"Who is it for?"

"Missandei," she said with her eyes still on the steel.

"The slave? She doesn't strike me as the fighting type."

Annoyed that she had to keep repeating herself, she set the dagger down and turned on her brother. "For the last time, she's not a slave. Our khalasar no longer keeps slaves and Missandei may not look it, but I'd take her over any ten men in your army."

Robb stepped forward and picked up the weapon she'd released. He looked at it carefully, admiring the craftmanship and feeling it's weight just as she'd done. He passed his thumb over the edge. "I thought she was merely an advisor."

"She is," Arya confirmed as she stole the dagger back. "I've known Kings and Khals, our father is an honorable Lord and our mother could hold her own against most men I've met. I've ridden with mercenaries and murderers, taking and killing where I please. I sleep at night next to the last Targaryen and still I have little doubt that Missandei will outlast the lot of us. And if she did, the world would be better for it. The things she's been through, she's one of the most principled, bravest people I've ever met, on either side of the Narrow Sea."

"Sounds like you got a crush little sister. Are you and she…" his words died before he finished his thought. She didn't understand what he was asking until he moved his eyebrows up and down.

"No!" she growled, annoyed by Robb's choice to thrust himself in places he didn't belong. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, we're not."

"You're my sister. Of course, it's my business."

"Do I ask you about your private affairs with your wife?" She paused and when he didn't answer, she did for him. "No, I don't, because despite being your sister it's none of my fucking business."

"What has you so defensive?" he wondered with a smirk. He was poking her on purpose, trying to illicit a reaction, just as he'd done when they were children. "This is Valyrian steel. A very nice gift for a friend to give another."

"Missandei has more than earned it. She's too stubborn not to go, but I refuse to take her back there until she is properly armed."

"Where?"

"Astapor," she said before her tongue changed to Dothraki. Addressing the merchant, she asked for the dagger's price.

The merchant was an older Dothraki woman. She wore a slate grey dress the same color as traditional Stark banners. Her exposed skin told of a violent life. She had scars, not as many as Arya, but more than any noble woman in Westeros. Like all Dothraki she wore her markings as a matter of pride. "You are the Khal?" she asked. "The one Khal Drogo called 'Little Warrior?'

"I am," Arya confirmed as she reached for her purse of coins. While she ordered gold distributed for her army, Arya hadn't thought to bring more than a handful of coins for herself. What she carried certainly wasn't enough to buy a Valyrian steel dagger.

"Your khalasar is moving all over the city, buying things for a great voyage on wooden horses," the woman told her. "Is it true you're taking them across the poison water?"

"It is. Our enemies hide across the sea. We must go to fight them."

The woman smiled, obviously pleased by the news. "Will you take us with you?"

"Take who?" Arya asked, looking around for anyone who might be with the merchant.

"Me and my son. He is young, but a good boy. After my husband was killed, we left and have been here since."

Arya had another quick look for the son but she couldn't pick him out from the crowd. "What is your name?"

"Mali," she answered, offering both Starks a friendly smile.

Arya held out her hand in greeting. When Mali took it, the Khal returned her smile. "My name is Arya and you and your son have a place among our people."

Mali's smile slipped away as quickly as it appeared. "My son is not yet the best warrior. He has a strong heart but is small. Too small. After my husband died I knew he would follow, so we fled."

"Your family will be safe Mali," she vowed. "I will help to train your son."

"He is good with a bow, hunts dinner each night and we never go hungry."

As she praised her boy Mali's smile returned and again Arya found herself smiling along. "We can always use more hunters. We'll be staying until sunset. Gather your things and you can join us."

"We will be ready," Mali promised.

"How much for the dagger?"

She shook her head. "No," she said in the common tongue. "You take. Gift for the Khal who help us."

"Thank you," she said in her native language since the Dothraki didn't have a word for it. Shifting back what the merchant would understand more easily she asked, "Where did you learn the common tongue?"

"Books."

"I must find the Khaleesi, but we won't leave without you. You have my word." Holding the dagger in Robb's direction she nodded to Mali one final time and then moved away. "Hold this for me, will you?"

"What was all that about? And why didn't you pay her? That was the most expensive piece by far. Why would she just give it to you?" His questions were laced with awe and wonder, pressed so tightly together she never had a chance to reply.

"She didn't want coins, only a place in my khalasar."

"Does she know where you're going?"

"She does," Arya confirmed.

Robb shook his head. "It's amazing really! You tell a woman you're going off to war, across the sea no less and her response is to tag along. What is wrong with these people?"

Taking the dagger back she attached it to her belt, right next to the arakh. "Well, you heard her, she speaks a little of your language. You can ask her for her reasons when she and her son join us tonight"

"Son? That's great. So, my sister is running an orphanage for wayward Dothraki children. How generous."

Despite having shorter legs, she put distance between her and Robb with every stride. She rolled her eyes at his comment. "Less whining, more walking. We need to find Daenerys."

R-C

When they arrived in the Eastern market, Arya knew something was wrong. First, she noted that several of the stalls had goods but no merchants manning them. In addition, the usual steady flow of people moving in all directions had effectively ceased. The shoppers had formed a barrier, hiding what had their attention from Arya and Robb. "This isn't right," she said to her brother as she began to weave her way through the crowd.

Robb being taller saw what was happening before she did. "Seven Hells," he said to her, before he cursed more violently under his breath. Robb's determination to get to the front of the pack seemed stronger now and Arya didn't like that. She followed his path, calling out in Dothraki that she needed to get through.

At the heart of the scene Arya found Vern standing against three Dothraki. He held a sword in his left hand and she noted blood dripping from it, landing on the body of a fourth man, who'd been gutted by Robb's friend. She took a small measure of comfort from the fact that none of the men were from her khalasar, but that only brightened things slightly.

Without looking away from the disgrace before her she spoke to her brother. "Leave. Find the rest of your men and go wait outside the city. We'll join you when we're done."

Seeming to realize the seriousness of what had happened Robb began trying to apologize. "Arya, I'm sorry…"

"Go!" She wasn't interested in hearing his pitiful excuses or listening to him defend what was in her eyes entirely indefensible.

"What of Vern?"

"He's mine," she said grimly.

"You can't just…"

She didn't know how he intended to finish that sentence but no matter how it ended Arya didn't want to hear it. "Yes, I can. Leave before I decide these people are owed more than just his head."

Robb disappeared backward into the crowd while Arya went in the opposite direction. A murmur moved through the onlookers as she stepped up beside the other three. "Oh, how nice of you to join us. I thought you were going to miss all the fun." Looking at the man he'd killed, he stepped on his body crudely. "Was he one of yours?"

"You fucking idiot," she shouted in a language he could understand. Once he knew where she stood on the issue she addressed the Dothraki. "This outsider will die. I will kill him without violating our city any further."

Arya knew from her past visits to Vaes Dothrak that she was widely known. Knowledge of her had been passed to even the smallest khalasars. They spoke of the girl the powerful Khal Drogo trained personally. They said he'd taken a foreign girl into his army as he'd taken a foreign wife into his bed. Many had doubts, but word of her victories crossed from one end of the Dothraki Sea to the other. It had taken years but she'd earned the respect of the larger Dothraki community. There would always be some who never saw her as anything more than an invader, but as her reputation grew and her deeds were heralded the majority saw her as an equal. It was because of this that when she spoke, the Dothraki around her not only listened, they obeyed. The three men who had been planning to fight Vern now stepped back, allowing the Khal to have the honor.

Seeing the muscular men retreating Vern smiled, completely misreading the situation. "Thanks Stark. What did you say to them?"

"Only that I mean to kill you." His reply came in the form of a sword being swung at her head.

Her instincts told her to reach for one of the many weapons she carried but that wasn't an option, not here. "Two fucking laws! Two simple fucking rules and you still manage to fuck that up. I'll be doing Robb a favor."

At her insults Vern swung again, this time catching her in the side of her neck before she could slip away. When she stood opposite him, she reached up and touched the wound. It wasn't deep enough to cause concern. "Oops I think I just broke another savage law. What's the penalty?"

Arya was glad the Dothraki couldn't understand him. If they could, there would be a riot over who would get the privilege of killing him. She kept up her dance, fleeing from every attempt, ducking, and dodging, all while her hands remained empty.

Wearing heavy plate armor made Vern slow. It was for this reason that Arya managed to avoid the most serious attacks. After a few minutes, the speed of the swipes slowed. Vern chose to put most of his energy in powerful, two handed strikes, but was quickly running out of energy. Avoiding the sword, she lowered her shoulder and rushed at the idiot as fast as she could. Her strong arms wrapped around his waist as she applied force, trying to knock his legs out.

They fell together and while Arya accomplished not only taking him to the ground but disarming him too, Vern managed to roll them. He mounted her and began to rain blows down on her face.

While the crowd watched in horror Arya took punch after punch. A cut on her forehead and another on the bridge of her nose bled profusely. Still no one stepped in to help. Interfering in fair combat was a taboo the Dothraki thought unforgiveable. Even when Jorah, Daenerys, Missandei and all three of her Blood Riders joined the spectators they offered nothing more than words of encouragement.

Struggling to buck the bigger man, Arya tried to remember all the lessons Drogo had taught her. Then she went back even further and recalled Syrio's lessons from what felt like a lifetime ago. She remembered vividly kneeling on the floor in one of the Red Keep's many rooms. She was struggling to regain herself after Syrio had kicked her in the groin, hard. "You fight dirty," she complained then.

"There is no such thing as dirty fighting. There is only fighting. Leave morals for those who don't hold a sword. In battle, there is only dead or alive. Sometimes fighting dirty is the only way to win. You must remember this."

She had remembered and Syrio had been right. She waited until the moment Vern landed a particularly brutal punch and then she went to work. First, she struck his throat. It wasn't enough to tip him over but it did force him to stop punching her as he reached up to grab his neck. Second, she bent her knee under him and then gripped his brown hair in both hands to force him up. It wasn't much, he was too heavy to lift fully, just a couple of inches but that's all she needed.

Just as she hoped he would, he knocked her hands away from his hair and then attempted to sit back down on his foe. With her leg bent Vern unknowingly dropped his balls directly on her waiting knee. He screamed in a sound that rallied the nearby Dothraki. Ramming her knee even harder into him, she sent him toppling off to the right, rolling away. As he'd done with her, she mounted him quickly. After a brief struggle, she pinned his arms using her legs and settled both of her hands around his windpipe. While she squeezed, he frantically tried to wriggle free.

The onlookers mocked the man in a language he couldn't understand. Earlier she'd been glad the Dothraki couldn't comprehend Vern's insults. Now she wished he could understand theirs as they ridiculed him. All around her they spoke. They wanted death for the man who violated their most sacred place. Beyond that they mocked his armor, amused by the fact that not even a suit of steel could keep him safe from one girl. Some offered free tactical advice, but as Vern's death approached, the words faded and became one continual shrieking war cry. It seemed to shake everything and everyone around her. Arya just kept squeezing.

When it was over she stood. "He has no hair to cut!" she told them before she put a hand to her neck, to stem the bleeding.

With the fight over Daenerys and the Blood Riders rushed to her side. "Are you okay?" Daenerys asked, replacing Arya's hand with her own. "Come, you need to be tended to."

"It's a scratch," she said dismissively.

When she addressed Kelo, the youngest of her Blood Riders she kept her volume up, so others could hear too. "Take him outside the city. He isn't fit to rot here."

The Dothraki shrieked again, wordless agreement for Arya's point of view. Kelo grabbed Vern's legs and Kovarro took his arms. Together they carried his carcass through the people. Many cursed as they passed, others spit on the corpse. After the excitement was over things slowly began to return to normal. Only as she let herself be led by Daenerys did she notice Robb watching her. He hadn't left as she'd told him to and as a result he had watched her kill. The deeply horrified set of his features couldn't be discounted but it wasn't all she saw. Mixed in she saw the wide eyes of surprise. Maybe now he'd respect the woman she'd become. Maybe he'd give her points of view consideration before dismissing them outright, or maybe he'd be unable to look at her and see his sister any longer. Maybe for the rest of their time together he'd see only the woman who choked his friend to death.

Daenerys pulled her from her thoughts of Robb and how she'd just altered their relationship. "Alright, you've shown your prowess one more time, now listen to your Khaleesi and allow me to tend to your wounds."

"I'm fine Daenerys," she said glancing to the spot where Robb had been to find him gone.

"Let me tend to you anyway," she suggested.

R-C

Robb was kneeling next to Vern's dead body. With his hands folded and his eyes down, he whispered to the Old Gods Arya had taught her about. She watched in silence, waiting until he was finished before she made her presence known. "There was nothing you could have done," Daenerys insisted. "The minute he drew that sword he'd violated their law and the Dothraki have only one punishment for that."

Covering his face with his hands he shook his head. "I can't believe this happened. I'm the Warden of the North and now one of my men is dead. The worst part is there is nothing I can do because the killer is my sister. Worse still, she seems determined to destroy our former home. If I don't do something, I risk allowing a revolt to take root."

"Tell your people the truth," Daenerys suggested. "Remind them that Arya offered to leave you outside the city, but you all refused. Inside the Horse Gate, despite knowing the law Vern drew his weapon, then he used that weapon to kill an unarmed man."

"My men will want revenge," he said with a grunt. His fingers were lost in his hair when he suddenly stopping combing and began to pull. "What the fuck happened to her?"

As she thought about Arya, she couldn't control her smile. They hadn't all been good times, but by and large they were. She arrived terrified and starving and was nearly raped on her first night, but she survived. "A lot happened and I think you need to take that into consideration when you speak to your sister next."

Robb looked ready to respond, his mouth opened and the words died on his tongue. Curious about what quieted him she followed his eye and could see Missandei and Arya whispering together. She saw nothing out of the ordinary but Robb apparently viewed things differently. "What is it with those two?"

"What about them?" Daenerys prodded.

"Cute couple don't you think?"

While most of her knew the assumption was baseless, there was a knot in her stomach all the same. Logically she knew Arya wouldn't do that and neither would Missandei, but doubt lingered. Whatever Robb was seeing was all in his imagination, it had to be. That knot got tighter when she saw Arya smile warmly, before Missandei responded by rising up onto her toes to kiss the nearest cheek. As they separated, Daenerys could see Missandei was holding something, but couldn't make out what it was. She was curious. Had Arya gone shopping and bought something specific for Missandei? They were friends, good friends, but that would be unusual given all she knew of Arya's behavior going back more than seven years.

"I think they look like friends."

"Neither of them will tell me how they met. I mean how bad could it be?"

Daenerys tried to dissuade him with nothing more than the intense scowl on her face. She folded her arms over her breasts. "It was bad enough," she remembered. "That isn't a pleasant story. It's no wonder they don't want to talk about it."

"Were you there?" Daenerys nodded so he kept pushing. "You tell me then."

"Why do you care? Do you desire Missandei, before you go back to your wife?" she mocked coldly.

He threw up his hands. "That's not what this is about," he cried. Once his anger settled he tried to justify his questions. "I came over here, travelled thousands of miles to find my sister. When I finally do, she's nothing like I remember." Facing Daenerys directly he leaned just a little bit closer, lowering his voice. "I want to learn about her life, see the things she cares about, meet the people who matter to her."

He wanted to get to know Arya better. She could hardly deny him that. "Have you ever heard of the Walk of Punishment Lord Stark?"

"No, what is it?"

With a sigh, she closed her eyes. In her mind, she was overrun with images of their last time in Astapor. With her mind occupied by the past, her hands began to shake. "We went to pick up tribute, that's all." She sighed again. "They'd already accepted our terms."

"What happen?" Robb asked warily.

She straightened her back and squared her shoulders before she responded. "The Walk of Punishment is a form of discipline for slaves. If you disappoint or disobey your Master, he crucifies you along a public street, as a lesson to other slaves not to do the same."

"In the name of the Gods," Robb said as he bowed his head. "How evil."

Daenerys had come this far she wasn't about to stop now. If he wanted to hear the story, she was going to tell it all, with every grizzly detail. "When we passed the line of crucified slaves, I spoke to them. I offered them water but they refused and begged me to let them die. Near the end four men in fine clothes were forcing a half naked woman up onto an unused cross. We reached them as they were hammering the first nails in. We knew we had to do something. It wasn't our business, but we couldn't do nothing. I wanted to help and Arya agreed."

"Then what happened, how did you get her?"

"I went over first and tried to talk to them. We had gold, but likely far less than would have been necessary to buy her. I held out the coins and just then the woman sobbed above me. I was so startled I dropped them. While one man, bent down to help me pick them up, Arya struck down the other three."

"All three of them?"

She nodded, her expression grim. "One swing of her arakh and we were suddenly in charge."

"That's incredible," Robb admitted as he looked over at Missandei and his sister.

"We got her off the cross and Arya carried her out of the city while the Masters had their slaves rain arrows down on us." Daenerys took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Things will be hard for Missandei now. Astapor has a lot of painfully memories for her. As if that weren't bad enough, we know her Master wants her back. He's placed a bounty on her head."

"That would explain why Arya would want her to have a dagger."

R-C

The trip to Astapor was both long and slow. More than once she heard Robb and his men complaining about the pointless journey. The Dothraki who largely didn't understand the common tongue were oblivious to the dissention, but those who could, knew tensions were building.

"Go if you want!" Arya shouted at her brother, when they made camp, days away from their destination. "You've got your boat, take your men and go. I'm tired of listening to you whine like angry children each time we break camp."

"We've been riding for weeks!" Robb reminded her.

Arya was unrepentant. "I know. I was there too, remember?" She balled her hands into fists, a clear sign of her frustration. "Just go. I'll follow after you once I have the ships we need."

She could tell he was considering it. She didn't care either way. Robb and his men weren't going to change what was going to happen. She was going to get ships and she was going to lead her khalasar across the sea to kill the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Robb's attendance wouldn't be required. If he was there, fine, but she refused to beg him to stay.

"How much further is it?" Robb asked, sounding defeated.

"A week," she guessed.

He decided quickly. "We will join you."

"Fine," Arya said confidently, "but tell your men to stop belly-aching, it's annoying and when I get annoyed people tend to die."

Robb's posture changed and he looked at her with a storm in his eyes. "You already killed one of my men. How about you keep your blade on your hip and away from my soldiers."

She smiled darkly. "I killed your man," she accepted, "but it was quicker and far better than he deserved. Do you have any idea what those Dothraki would have done to him if I hadn't shown up?" She waited a few seconds before answering her own question. "If I hadn't stepped in and killed him, they would have tied him to a horse and dragged him outside the city, so they could draw their blades, and his blood without violating the law. They would have taken turns removing pieces of him until there was nothing left and trust me when I tell you, your friend would have been alive until the final moment."

With a curse, Robb shook his head. "Savages."

Arya growled in defiance. "Those savages have exactly one city, one place in this world that matters to them and within that city they have only two laws. Vern violated the both of them. Tell me Lord Stark, what do you do to people who break your laws in Winterfell?"

"We don't torture them," he retorted. "We don't kill them needlessly."

Arya turned away and planned to leave her brother to his thoughts. When she was nearly ten feet away she looked back. "Wait a week," she urged him. "After you meet the Masters of Astapor, you can tell me who you think the real savages are."

R-C

Author's Note: Couldn't have a Dothraki story without a visit to Vaes Dothrak. Next up Astapor. Thanks for reading.