The king was happier than he had any right to be. Daenerys sat there, as far from the high table as she could be while still being in the King's party, and watched as Joffrey and Margaery ate from the same plate and drank from the same cup for four courses before getting their own. So much so that Daenerys ate each course in turn, and her stomach filled but none of it had any taste. "Are you well, lady Daenerys?" Leonette asked her kindly as Daenerys declined the fifth course of the feast, only sipping from her cup and wishing her stomach would settle. Daenerys was about to reply when Leonette lay the back of her hand on Daenerys' forehead. "Well you aren't with fever?"

"You don't need to treat her like a child, my lady," Garlan replied. Daenerys wasn't sure whether she had been seated there for the queen's brother and his wife to keep an eye on her, or if it had been an attempt at some mercy, that she could have some pleasant company. And the two of them were pleasant. Garlan was quick with his courtesies and Leonette constantly engaged her in conversation.

"Well you have yet to give me one, my lord," Leonette replied and Daenerys smiled. Such simple and delightful concerns. Any child I might conceive would suffer the fate of my niece and nephew, if I were ever to be allowed to have a child. Her mind returned to the clean-shaven northman Cley Cerwyn. It had been doing that a lot. He was a man, but without cruelty in arms or cunning and in that, he was unlike other men.

"I am well, my lady," she told Leonette, "but I feel my stomach can only hold so much." Her stomach had been light all day, food sat heavy and wine was… well she hadn't yet finished a cup while most were on their third or more. But even if it didn't make her stomach twist, she wouldn't drink more than a cup, she needed her head to be clear tonight.

"Lady Daenerys." She jumped in her seat and turned to see Cley looking down at her.

"L-lord Cerwyn."

He smiled and bowed. "I was wondering if you might like to get some fresh air."

Would that be a good idea?

"She'd be delighted to," Leonette said, squeezing her wrist kindly. "Go on, and don't have too much fun."

"Thank you, my lady." They went outside to the entrance hall and stood in a corner, away from the great hall.

"How are you enjoying the feast?" She asked.

"It's certainly very impressive. Are they usually like that down here?"

"Sometimes, but on a far smaller scale. What about the North?"

"Far louder and messier. We don't have so many courses, normally they bring out the whole thing at once and you grab what you can."

"Even the dessert?"

"More often than you would think."

He looks like he misses it. "How long have you been away from the North?"

"Nearly two years now."

That led to a whole discussion of the North and Castle Cerwyn in particular. He spoke of the frostgrasses in the godswood, of joining the Starks for grand hunts in the wolfswood and skating on the frozen white knife river. She had never been skating.

"My sister is managing the castle in my absence, but it will be good to return."

"What is your sister like?"

"She's almost twice my age, homely and longing to be wed. She was ready to marry a younger child of House Tallhart, but then I was born, and she was no longer the heir. My father has spared her hand while waiting for me to grow up. He didn't know whether to have her marry an heir to another great house or a lesser son to become her consort in case of my death. I will have to find someone for her."

"And what about you? If you're to marry off your sister, you must have a marriage in your future?"

In the dim light, she saw his cheeks flush. "I have…. received offers."

"Are they enticing offers?" She shuffled closer to him.

"It would be hard to tell," his eyes flicked down to her bust before returning to her face. "I haven't met any of my potential brides yet."

"And what about me? Do you think I would be a good wife for you?"

"I…" he swallowed. "From what Sansa has told me. That is to say from what I have seen. I… yes."

Daenerys chuckled. "So, Sansa has told you of her little plan?"

"She mentioned something of it, yes." He whispered, casting his eyes about. "Would it be possible for you? My lady. I do not think the Lannisters would let you go."

"The future is hard to see," Daenerys said. "But I would like nothing more to be away from this place, and the north is very far away, where I could live away from these people."

Cley looked around. "That sounds very wise, from what I have seen of Lannisters."

Their voices were whispers by now. "Of course, wives have many duties they must fulfil," Daenerys said. "I may not be able to bring a dowry, but I can bring you my name, the blood that runs in my veins, and the other responsibilities of wifehood."She cast a quick glance around to make sure there was no one watching, then leant up and pressed her mouth alongside his ear so that none in. "Come to my bedchambers later. Let the bedding happen and leave enough time for the castle to sleep, and I will show you how good a wife I can be." Daenerys bowed her head. "I thank you for your time, my lord, now if you'll forgive me, I need some refreshing night air." She turned and left through the open door of the great hall where many of the guests were standing and talking away from the bustle of the crowd. More were outside, standing in the doorway, away from the lashing rain. She looked up at the dark skies, the clouds and the night creating a foul pall that hung over the city. A dark sky for such a happy day. Only slivers of moonlight cut through them to illuminate the cityscape below. She turned her head towards Maegor's Holdfast. The centre of the kingdom, built by her ancestor's son, the cruel tyrant. Fitting that she would be here under just such a tyrant, but now in his power. Not a single window was lit with hearth fire or candelabra. No doubt the servants were busy helping with this feast and would return later to stoke the fires in the royal chambers

And so it's time. She turned and went back inside. She looked in at the entrance to the great hall. The feast was in full swing and Garlan and Leonette were talking with the Hand of the King, who had come down from the high table. I won't be missed at least.

She had made it halfway up the stairs leading into the castle when Sansa called up to her. "Hold Daenerys."

She turned to see Sansa hurrying up behind her. "Are you alright? Cley said you seemed unhappy."

Daenerys took Sansa's hand and squeezed. "I'm perfectly fine, Sansa, I just fear that it is too much merriment for my liking. I can't stand to see Joffrey so happy."

"It's only one evening, Dany. Come back and enjoy the food, you can't deny it's exceptional."

"It's one evening for you." Sansa looked like she had just slapped her, and Dany regretted it as soon as she had said it.

"You're right, that was discourteous of me. Forgive me."

Dany hugged Sansa. "You know I would forgive you whatever you do. Just as you would me."

"Wil you come back to the feast now? People have moved seats, if you'd prefer you can come and sit with us."

Dany shook her head. "No, I can't. But I did have a favour I would like to ask you."

"It won't be a favour and you won't owe me, what do you need?"

"Later tonight could you bring Cley to my room? I know you are leaving soon and I may not get another chance to talk with him."

"So late?"

"I don't want to cause a scandal, if people see him coming to my room, they might pass rumours about me."

"Alright, when should I bring him?"

"Give it some time after the bedding ceremony, the celebrations should continue a little while after that, when the castle is asleep, bring him in." It should also give me time.

Sansa nodded, a smile slowly creeping onto her face. "Does that mean you are receptive to my plan?"

Dany smiled shyly. "Maybe." It was hard to imagine herself as a lord's wife, running a household as she had no idea what that meant, least of all in the North. But she had imagined other things. "Oh and you can bring that sky blue dress with you as well. Joff made it all the way through the ceremony without making a mistake."

Sansa wrinkled her nose. "Fine, I suppose I can't hold him responsible for the rain. But you owe Mace Tyrell praise for his battle talents."

"Tomorrow, I promise." She turned to look back up the stairs. "Could you inform ser Garlan and lady Leonette that I have taken ill, I can't return to that feast. Not with Joffrey being so…"

"Joffrey?"

"Exactly."

Sansa nodded. "Now why don't you tell me where you're really going?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dany, I know you. You're not sick, and we've seen Joffrey do far worse than eat and enjoy a feast. We both learned to look without seeing a long time ago. What are you doing?"

"I… need to go into the tunnels again, and while the feast is ongoing, no one will be looking for me. That gives me more time than usual."

Sansa's gaze was unrelenting. "You will be back in your rooms when I bring Cley, won't you. He'll be very disappointed if you aren't, and I will be disappointed if you are only flirting with him. He is a friend and he would be goo for you."

"I'll be there, I give you my word. On my dagger, I will be there." Sansa knew that her word and her dagger were all she would have to give.

Sansa reached up and cupped Dany's cheek. "There's something you aren't telling me. Isn't there? I won't pry, just promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise."

And with that, Sansa was pacified. "Very well, I'll inform ser Garlan. Good luck, Dany."

Back in her room, Dany let out one deep breath and then hurried into action. She stripped out of her blue and white gown and into her comfortable blacks, tucking in her hair and raising the hood. She opened her chest of clothes and rummaged around at the bottom before pulling out the long length of rope that she had stashed there yesterday. She wound it around her torso, from left shoulder to right hip several times until it weighed her down. Even then, she didn't know for certain that it would be enough. She also pulled out several long strips of silk, there had been plenty to find as the castle had been decorated for the wedding. Finally, she pulled out her dagger and slipped it into her belt.

Now was the time. She went down into the tunnels, following the path she had found that led to the moat between the Red Keep and Maegor's Holdfast. She glanced out, the rain was still lashing down, but the clouds had parted a little, with moonlight slashing through it. She closed the lamp door and stepped into the moat, the mud soft under her feet and hurried through the spikes as quickly as she could, lest someone look down into the moat and see her in the gloam. At the other wall, she felt along until she found what she was looking for, a second dragon, carved into the stone, so shallowly it was almost unnoticeable, even looking directly at it. Parts of the carved image were weathered by water and time, but it was there, and Dany pushed. The stone door creaked open and she stepped inside. She opened her lamp again and raised a hand to cover her mouth. This corridor wasn't like those in the Red Keep. It was covered in dust, numerous cobwebs stretched from roof to floor and the only sign that anyone had ever used it were the footprints in the dust from her last visit, going in and out.

She followed the steps up the passageway. Unlike in the Red Keep, there was only one single passage going into the holdfast, no branches, no winding paths, just one route from the moat to a store room in the cellar. The door was hidden behind several stacks of old red stones, left over from the original construction perhaps. She didn't know if the holdfast had ever been under siege, but suspected if it was, these stones would be brought to the walls to be hurled at any attackers in a last-ditch defence. But other than these stones, there wasn't much in here either. Perhaps it would be stocked with foodstuffs, if they weren't all being eaten downstairs. They had best hope there would be no second siege anytime soon.

Moving into the holdfast, Dany had to navigate by the light of her lantern as there was little else to go on, she didn't hear or see any servants, but she kept her hand ready to snap the lantern shut at the slightest sound. She found her way to the Queen's Ballroom from this morning, everything packed away from breakfast and from there she oriented herself and hurried up through narrow staircases to the upper floors. She peeked into rooms until she found the royal bedchamber. She slipped in. The room was a mess, but it was definitely the one, Joffrey's wedding garb had been left crumpled on the bed. The room was huge, at least twice as large as hers. Her family had slept here for three hundred years, and at last, she had returned.

Dany blew out her lantern and headed over to the balcony, the door was bolted shut, but it slid open easily. She slipped out, hurried over to the balustrade and tied the rope securely to the one furthest to the left. Then she returned, bolting the door shut behind her and got under the bed.

And there, she waited.

She waited as servants entered the room to clean up and change the bedding. The bed was so large that she only had to hold her breath in the middle and the servants changed the sheets around them, commenting on what might take place later on that night. They left and either they or others returned later to start the fire to allow it to heat the room and burn down before the arrival.

All the while Dany waited.

She heard the king and queen coming before she saw them. Raucous and vulgar comments carried them to the door which banged open. The bed sagged as Margaery and Joffrey fell on it, encouraged by calls from outside. Dany controlled her breathing as the King an Queen fucked on top of her. Enjoy it.

When they were done, Joff and Margaery crying out as one, the bed sagged again and the two of them spoke. Even here, away from the eyes of the court, Joff still played the courteous one, perhaps he thought the wedding ceremony was ongoing and still obeying the commands of his council. He offered Margaery another drink and she accepted. They drank and talked and laughed. The drink of the day was getting to them, she could tell. But Dany's suffering wasn't finished yet. The two of them fucked again, their kisses wet and loud. She kept her eyes closed and endured it. She hoped that would be it. But the two of them continued, slurred speech and lewd comments. Joffrey boasting about how many more times he would make love to her that day and what else he would do. There the suggestions became darker and Dany closed her ears to them. She waited, the fire burning down as the two of them settled into the bed above them.

It would be too much to hope that would have been the end. She thought later, when the fire was nearly burned out and Joffrey had woken Margaery by fucking her. Whether she was truly happy to wake to be woken that way or just seemed to be, she was soon reciprocating.

And so, Dany waited. She waited for the bed to sag one final time, for the fire to fade to its last embers and for the air to cool and slipped out from under the bed. She stood up. Joff and Margaery were both asleep, Margaery on her side facing the king, Joffrey was on his back, one arm flung up above his head, the other by his side, one leg under the covers, the other out on the bed. She would start there.

Quickly and nimbly, she tied a strip of silk loosely around each ankle so that it hung over the end of the bed, She then did the same with each of the arms so that the sleeping king was left wearing silken shackles. I shouldn't be doing this, I should be doing it and leaving, but after everything he's done, he's going to see it. With the stips attached she quickly tied them up, the feet around the post at the foot of the bed and the arms to the headboard. Joffrey shuffled and murmured as she raised the hand by his side over his head and she grabbed for her dagger's handle, but he shuffled and didn't wake. All four limbs loosely tied, she quickly went from one to the other tightening them so that Joff was held steady. The sudden pull on his limbs made him stir, but before he could waken, Daenerys was at his head and shoved the last strip of silk into his mouth, tying it around his neck. He made to moan groggily, but she drew her knife and placed it against his cheek. "Make a noise and you die." She whispered in his ear.

Joffrey Baratheon came to and his eyes widened with terror. He made to struggle but Dany pushed him into the mattress and pressed the dagger into the soft flesh under his jaw and he quelled, barely audible wimpers muffled by the silken gag.

"Oh Joffrey," she whispered, grinning. "How I have longed to have you at my mercy. How does it feel, my king, to know that you are the one on the end of a knife, that I can do to you whatever I want?" His eyes went to the door. "Oh don't worry, I'm not going to kill you unless I have to, and if you draw the attention of your Kingsguard, I will have to, nod if you understand." Slowly, the boy nodded. "Good, you're doing well. Do you know who I am?" A shake. "Do you know why I am here?" Another shake. "I am here to punish you for what you have done, for your crimes. A price must be paid." She raised her dagger to his arm and slashed a thin line through the silk of his nightshirt. The blood shined in the darkness. "The murder of Eddard Stark." She slashed another line. "The murder of his household." Another slash, another crime. "Shooting your crossbow at the crowd when they were starving." She slashed again and again, listing indecencies and humiliations and worse that Joffrey had inflicted upon lords and knights and the starving smallfolk. Sometimes the boy threatened to make a noise and Dany clamped her hand over his mouth and gave an extra deep cut, letting him whimper in pain against her glove. She slashed, the blood staining the bed and bedclothes the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. When his arms were swimming Dany moved to his legs, giving him and extra deep cut when she brought up Sansa's maiming, the knife got close to his crotch and she had to hold back her laugh as she saw a dark stain spread across the area. "King Joffrey pissing himself in his own bed." She leant up close to his face, her own still cast in shadow. "Have you suffered enough, my king, have you paid for your crimes. He nodded, eyes wet with tears a whimper in his throat. She trailed the now bloody blade of the dagger along his cheek. How easy it would be to carve out an eye, she might even be able to get both of them. Perhaps I should do that, leave him blind instead of killing him, or maybe take his nose, or… She clamped her hand over his mouth. "I disagree," she said. She moved her hand down until Joffrey's wormy upper lip poked up over the top of her glove and she turned the knife down on it. Joffrey's eyes widened with fear as she saw what Dany was about to do.

Margaery mumbled something and shuffled in the bed. "Not a sound and you can keep your lips." She warned the boy and he stilled. Margaery settled, but that was too close. She wouldn't be able to hold Joffrey down and silent as she sliced off his lips, Margaery at least would waken and she would no doubt scream, the Kingsguard would enter, and Daenerys would be killed at best. No, she wasn't going to die here. She had promised Sansa that she would be back in her rooms, and there was a way out for her. It was in the North, at Castle Cerwyn. No, she was not going to die inside these cursed red walls.

"Well then, my king, it's time I was gone. But I do have one last message for you." She pulled back her hood, letting her silver hair fall out. The boy saw and his eyes widened in shock and terror, because now she had revealed herself, and that meant only one thing. Before his terrified mind could realise that the Kingsguard outside were his only hope, Daenerys leant in until her face was inches from his and she could almost taste the fear from his hyperventilating breath. "You should have been a better boy."

She leant back and carved through his throat in three long, slow pulls of the dagger. Blood spurted out from his throat and spilt like a fountain. A whistling hiss came with it and Joffrey began to writhe as Dany dipped her finger in his blood and drew bloody tears on his cheeks. She watched him passively while he let out wet gasps and gargles as he drowned in his own blood.

When the boy was still, Dany stowed the knife, retrieved the lamp and went out to the balcony, she took in a breath of clean air then kicked the rope out until it dangled down towards the moat. Then she scrambled over the edge, took the rope and climbed down. Even dangling from the very end of the rope there was still a five-foot drop and the pain of it shot through her ankles and shins, but the pleasure at what she had done numbed it quickly. Hurriedly she returned to her chambers to meet her Sansa and Cley, who could corroborate that she was in her chambers when the king was murdered in his wedding bed.