Author's Note: Hello all! I want to apologize for the delay between chapters. Life happens. Since I posted the last chapter, I had major surgery, and in addition to family issues and working on another project, I had to push this to the side. But now with the family and health issues subsided for now, I can try to get this back on track. I won't be able to update this as often as I had in the past due to my new job as an EMT, but I will continue working on this when I can.

Turdas, 18th of Evening Star, 5E 10

Meereen

"I think I'm going to be sick." Jax groaned as he clutched at his stomach after being spat out of the portal. It took a moment, but soon the contents of his stomach came up onto the ground.

Arya only chuckled. She remembered her first time going through the portal ten years ago. "You ok, princess?"

"Bite me, wolf girl." Jax growled before putting a hand to his mouth, feeling ready to hurl for the second time in as many minutes. The feeling passed though, and he was able to keep whatever was left in his stomach from adding itself to the pile already at his feet.

Arya only laughed more. "Awww, no calling me princess this time?" She leaned into his ear. "But you would want me to bite you, wouldn't you?"

Jax looked up at her, the smallest smirk forming on his lips. "Maybe later. I wouldn't want to throw up on your pretty face…. princess." Wiping at his mouth with the back of his sleeve once he was sure he was done losing his lunch, Jax sighed and looked away. The fact they were missing most of their friends wasn't lost on either of them as he saw Arya's teasing smile disappear about the same time. "Let's… just find our way around this place. Maybe we'll get lucky for once."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," Arya replied, but she was silently hoping for the same thing. "Keep your eyes open for a Shadowmark. Thief, Dark Brotherhood, either one would be welcome at this point."

Starting on their way through the crowded streets of Meereen, past the Unsullied guards who only nodded at them on their way by, Jax decided to strike up some idle conversation to pass the time. "Where'd you learn to fight like that anyway, princess? I don't think I've ever seen that toothpick of yours be useful until recently." In all honesty, Jax had been in awe of how easily Arya had utterly destroyed the Thalmor soldiers with precise, single strikes, Needle proving quite capable in finding weaknesses in their armor with little effort.

Arya offered a sad smile. "His name was Syrio Forrel. He was the First Sword of Braavos. He taught me the style of water dancing. I was small then, so I needed an art that would use my size to my advantage."

"Makes sense. I'm just glad I was on your side. Those bastards had no idea what hit them." He chuckled weakly, and patted Arya on the back in approval before turning back to the street in front of them. "I might have to get me one of those skinny blades sometime. Maybe you could show me how to use it."

"I thought you already had a skinny blade?" Arya asked, and glanced down between Jax's legs. She smirked when he caught onto the joke.

Jax raised his eyebrows. "Oh, very funny, princess. Hasn't anyone told you size doesn't matter?"

"So you say." She chuckled again and slipped past a group of merchants, her hand deftly lifting one of their heavy coin purses as they passed. They'd need the extra coin to resupply and prepare for whatever came next. That and she wanted a roof over her head and a hot, scalding bath to wash away the events of the last few days. A quick glance to her side said that Jax was thinking the same thing when he idly tossed a freshly liberated coin purse between his hands, a sly little smirk on his lips as he whistled a tune.

"Want to bet who has more?" Jax teased softly.

"No."

"Afraid you'd lose?" Jax asked, only for Arya to casually bump into him. He had all of two seconds to realize the bag he'd been tossing about was now hanging from her belt before she tripped him, sending him head over heels just shy of a puddle of water. "I really need to just shut up sometime, don't I?" He mused aloud and sighed heavily before jumping to his feet.

"Yep, and besides, I know what kind of bet you'd make." Even so, Arya couldn't help but smile at her incorrigible companion. She wasn't sure she'd have made it this far without him to keep her sane, at least to some extent anyway. You had to be slightly mentally challenged to willingly work for a guild of merciless assassins.

"You know me too well, princess," Jax said. His smile grew ever so slightly when he stopped in front of a building: a general goods store. He pointed to the Shadowmark carved into the pillar, denoting that it was a safehouse for the Thieves Guild. "So, you want to knock, or should I, princess?"

Arya only rolled her eyes. Jax chuckled as he knocked on the door himself. It didn't take long for someone to open the door. It was an older, bearded man. He looked them over quizzically. "Yes?"

"I saw the mark," Arya said quickly.

The man nodded. "Come in. Quickly." The two young assassins ducked inside and the old man led them down a hidden staircase in the back of his store to the basement and into the sewers. From there they soon came upon a spartan, yet comfortable hideout for the Thieves Guild here in Meereen. Despite being in the sewers, there were plenty of amenities for the weary traveler among the group. A fully stocked bar, food, places to rest between jobs, and a couple of fences operated down here, eager to sell off any loot that was brought in. "Make yourselves comfortable." The old man said and nodded to the pair before walking back up to maintain the innocuous store front.

"Well, well, if it isn't Arya Stark." Another gruff man walked towards them, a smile on his face.

"Devin," Arya nodded to him. "Gods, it's good to see a familiar face."

"Had a bit of trouble?"

"That would be an understatement."

Devin picked up on her tone. "That bad?" Holding up her freshly healed thumb, the scar around the base of the finger said quite a bit. "What happened?"

"I have one word for you," Jax chimed in. "Thalmor." All the conversation in the den stopped with that single utterance. Jax blinked and looked away and saw more than a few faces bearing frustrated and angry visages equally. "Huh, and I thought it was just us having all the foul luck lately."

"Trust me kid, you aren't." Devin replied, and led them away to a quieter part of the underground hideout, away from potentially unfriendly ears. "We've had trouble of our own. Former slave masters have been causing havoc all over Meereen. The Sons of the Harpy, they're calling themselves. And they've somehow found ways to get elven weapons. Now tell me how that is possible."

"We did find something in Braavos that mentioned the Thalmor could be here as well. I guess that part's true, after all."

"Not to mention," Arya added, "They're apparently in Westeros as well."

"Shit." Devin cursed and shook his head before leaning against a stone wall. "Guess the rumors we've heard are true then. The Thalmor are finally stirring, which is bad news for everyone else. No wonder they stayed out of the war ten years back. They were waiting for an opportune time to strike. I'd congratulate them on their cunning, except that'd be giving a compliment to an old enemy." He looked up then and swept his eyes over the pair of assassins, curiosity on his face. "What happened to you exactly? If you'd rather not say, I'd understand, but it'd help to know so we have an idea of what to expect if the Thalmor hit us directly."

Arya looked away, unable to meet Devin's gaze while Jax shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Just when the old thief thought they wouldn't say a word, Arya blew out a breath and looked up into his face. "We… ran into a lot more trouble than I expected we would. I got us captured, tortured, and most of my team killed. Jax and I were the only ones to escape."

"Gods, no wonder you look half dead on your feet. But take heart, young wolf, you escaped despite the odds. That in itself is a victory, even if it doesn't feel like it now." Arya didn't feel better, but she took the words to heart anyway. Devin could see it in her face and patted her on the shoulder just as Jax coughed, getting the old man's attention. "Yes?"

"What can we do here?" Jax asked. "I would rather not sit here useless."

"You've done enough lad. You two need to rest and get your heads on straight before you do anything more." Devin held up a hand when Arya started to protest. "Believe me, I understand all too well how you feel. I survived an attempted takedown of the guild when Nakos was still an active part of the Thieves. I lost more than a few good friends during that time, and I wanted nothing more than to get back into the fight. Sometimes though, it's best to take a step back first, recollect yourselves, and let others carry the torch for a while. If you have anything to send back to Nakos, that we can take care of, but that's about all I'm going to let you do for us."

Arya sighed. "Fine. But don't expect me to rest for too long."

"You'll rest for however long I want you to," Devin chuckled, though his face was serious. "That's an order. I don't want anything to happen to you. Nakos would never forgive me."

"He's got us there, princess." Jax agreed hesitantly, more afraid of the Dragonborn than Arya, even if she was right at his side and glaring daggers through his face. "I'd rather you stab me first than have Nakos get a chance to cook me alive for letting you do something foolishly brave."

"Fine, fine." She growled and threw her hands up in defeat. Even as the words left her mouth though, a part of her agreed it would be good for them to take a few days to gather themselves for the days to come.

Devin pounced on her hesitation to push the argument further. "I would be disappointed if you didn't feel for your recent losses, little wolf. Whatever Nakos had you doing, I'm sure it was important. Take solace in the fact that they willingly gave up their lives to see you escape and the mission done. Sometimes that's all we can do at the end of the day." Arya nodded, but said nothing else. Devin stood to his feet. "You two should get something to eat and washed up. You smell awful. You especially, Jaxass."

"Why is everyone picking on me today, anyway?" Jax mused, but shrugged it off as Devin started away.

"Don't worry, princess," Arya teased as she placed a hand on his cheek playfully tapping it. "You'll get used to it."

They both ate bowls of clam chowder for dinner before Arya went to the designated washing area. It wasn't much more than a few partitions and a few small tubs, but at the moment, she didn't care. As long as she had hot water, which she did, she could have been swimming in a horse's trough and been happy about it. The water in the tub began turning an ugly brown color as she washed all the grime and dried blood off her body, but she hardly noticed.

"Damn, you're dirtier than me," Jax's voice came from behind her, making her jump and spin around in alarm. He held up a hand and instinctively blocked the jab that would have otherwise hit him square in the throat. "Whoa! Easy there, Arya!"

"Then don't scare me to death, shit head!" She hissed before blinking her eyes in confusion. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Came to check on you actually, but if you want to try and crush my windpipe I can go elsewhere." He grumbled and crossed his arms over his bare chest, the only thing covering him a simple towel wrapped around his lower waist.

"I should crush something else," she snapped back before leaning back into the tub. She took a breath, then a second, before her heart finally began to settle from a frantic gallop to a far more sedate pace. "I'm sorry…. you didn't deserve that."

"Hey, we've been through Oblivion recently. I'm a bit jumpy myself." Jax admitted, and kicked at a loose piece of the floor, sending a rock tumbling away. "I keep expecting those bastards to find us here, just like they did back at our safe house. I know they can't, though, not after how we got here, but it's still in the back of my mind anyway."

"Yeah…." Arya sighed and ran her hands down her face before letting them fall at her sides under the dirty water's surface. "I can still see them Jax….Morgen, Cassius, Kirsten, Cameron….they trusted me to get them home and...it all went to shit. Because I got overconfident, just like that Asscano said. Nakos made a mistake letting me take the lead. It should have been someone else."

"He didn't make a mistake, Arya. It wasn't your fault that our friends died." Jax softly said and hesitantly put a hand on the young woman's bare shoulder.

She stiffened at the touch, but she relaxed almost as quickly. "I hope you're not here just to try and see me naked."

"Eh," he shrugged. "The thought had crossed my mind, I'll admit. But I do have some decency, Arya. I wouldn't be much of a friend if I let you suffer alone."

She managed a weak smile and reached up for the hand on her shoulder and squeezed his fingers in silent gratitude for his attempt to cheer her up. She said nothing for a moment, just happy for his company. Afterward, she held a hand up, "Hand me a towel." Jax went to get one and handed it to her. "No peeking," she said as she held it up to block his view. She ducked behind a partition and soon came back out with the towel wrapped over her chest. She was almost disappointed that Jax hadn't tried to catch a peek when she saw him standing in the same spot he'd been earlier.

"I didn't peek," Jax said with a dry chuckle, "just as you commanded, princess." Whatever else he had planned to say died somewhere between his mouth and his throat when Arya dropped the towel with a feigned sigh. "Uh….um...huh?"

She merely smiled and pulled him in close for a deep, smoldering kiss. When she let him come up for air, she was happy to note he was no longer making confused induced noises. "Thank you, for being there this whole time, Jax." He only smirked and nodded. Some things just didn't need to be said, not that she gave him a chance to respond before tugging at the towel around his waist, letting it fall to the floor.

Meanwhile...

"Are you sure about this, Devin?" Daario asked, as he and Serena met the thief in a pre-designated meeting spot when news had reached him about the recent arrival of the assassins. They needed whatever information they could get, and with the increasingly violent attacks by the Harpies, they needed every bit of help they could get.

"From what Arya Stark and her friend Jax told me, and what they gave me to send to Nakos, I'd say our time's up." Devin sighed and nodded to the vampire. "You know better than any of us what the Thalmor can do, Lady Volkihar. You traveled with Nakos, you have personal experience with the gold-skinned bastards."

"Yeah I did, but we tried to avoid them wherever possible." Serena replied, but put a finger to the thief's lips before he could respond. "Be it as it may, the best we can do is keep eliminating their agents wherever they pop up. The Harpies are obviously their new allies here in Meereen, if this is to be believed." She gestured to the papers the two assassins had passed on to Devin to have sent back to the capital. "Which means we don't have to play nice any longer. We take the fight to them."

"Fucking the Thalmor up the ass?" Daario chuckled. "Count me in. And I think I know where to start."

Middas, 19th of Evening Star, 5E 10

Braavos

Ancano drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk he sat at. His golden eyes glared at each of the other Thalmor agents in the room with him. His gaze settled on each of them, for a few seconds at a time. When he spoke, he voice was unusually calm and cool. "So you're telling me, that two of them escaped. And you have no idea where they are." It wasn't a question. The Thalmor nervously swallowed the lumps in their throats and shook their heads. "Incompetent fools, all of you." He growled and slammed a hand onto his desk before gesturing for them to leave. Outsmarted by a bunch of little rats. Several of them might have been killed, but that didn't change the facts. The group lead by Arya Stark had made a mockery of his men, had killed one of the Justicars, and had escaped with sensitive documents pertaining to their future plans.

"Lord Ancano," one of the younger Thalmor said, but his words died in his throat when Ancano glared daggers at him.

"No. Please. Continue." The former 'ambassador' to the Mages College said and gestured with his hand for the young lad to give his report. "I'm sure you can't make my murderous mood any worse."

The young Altmer swallowed hard. "My Lord An-Ancano, t-the messenger has returned. He says there's someone here to see you. H-he said it was important. It's in regards to the escaped thieves and assassins."

Ancano stared at the elf hard. "And you're just telling me this now?" He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "How long has it been since they escaped? Eleven days? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"We...we...we... we wanted to see if they were still hiding in Braavos first."

Ancano's voice was still calm, but his demeanor spoke volumes. "Send that messanger in… now. And don't come back until you bring me back something halfway useful. If you don't, I won't have you gelded, I'll have you eviscerated." The young Altmer soldier bolted out of the room, not about to waste what few hours he might have left if Ancano did decide to have him publicly executed.

As for the man himself, Ancano was half tempted to dig out the bottle of Altmer wine he kept in his desk, brought all the way from the Isle, but held back the urge. It was just as well because no sooner had he shut the hidden drawer in his desk did the door to his office open, and standing before him was a black robed assassin. "You survived." Ancano said, to which the man simply nodded. "Yet your friends escaped. I hope you have an explanation or an idea of where they might have disappeared."

Pulling the mask down from his face, Cassius walked up to the desk and nodded. "Meereen. That's the last place I heard them talk about before I led your men on a merry dance through the dungeons."

"It was that merry dance that caused two of them to get away."

"How was I supposed to know?" Cassius shrugged. "I thought your wizard and captain would be able to handle them."

"Don't contradict me, boy, or would you rather I renege on our agreement?" Cassius growled something unsavory in his throat but Ancano ignored it, and leaned back in his chair. "I thought not. Your continued cooperation ensures she still draws breath, Cassius. You have ensured she is still useful to us, with the information you've provided, even though I would have preferred them dead after their usefulness came to an end. But perhaps this will work to our advantage. Go to Meereen. Find them, kill them, and any that have helped them. If you survive, you'll be reunited with her when you return with Arya Stark's head, as well as this Jax."

"Fine, but after this I'm done. I just want my sister back. As long as you stay true to your word, I'll do what I have to do." Cassius growled and left the office.

Ancano watched him go. "Keep an eye on him," he said to another agent. "He may be our mole, but that doesn't mean I trust him."

Loredas, 20th of Evening Star, 5E 10

Meereen

Daario was silent about his plans as he led Serana, and Grey Worm through the streets of Meereen. They were wearing normal clothes, but had some armor underneath. "The Unsullied and the city guards are too conspicuous," he said as they walked through the streets. "Anyone could see you coming from a mile off. That's why you haven't found any Sons of the Harpy. We need the element of surprise."

"So what are you proposing?" Serana asked. Grey Worm remained the ever silent guard that he usually was unless directly spoken to. That didn't mean he never had anything to say, he just chose not to speak to most people unless addressed first.

"Well, we have some eyes and ears in the city already," Daario answered. "My Second Sons, they drink, they whore, fight in the streets-they blend in. They overhear things in taverns, follow people from the taverns to nice, quiet alleys, break a few fingers, overhear a few more things. Before you know it…" He brought them to a door.

"One of them here?" Grey Worm asked in his broken Common Tongue.

"If my sources hold true." Daario said and winked playfully towards Serana, who only smirked and shook her head in response.

It was enough for Grey Worm as he kicked the door in and led the way inside, spear at the ready. Unfortunately, it looked to him like there was no one home, and he said as much. "No one here. We go."

"No," Serana whispered. "There is someone here. I can smell him." She indicated a bookshelf with her eyes.

Ignoring Serana for a moment, Daario turned and smirked at Grey Worm. "In a hurry? You're afraid?"

"Unsullied fear nothing." Grey Worm replied, a just noticeable edge to his otherwise monotone voice.

"Right. That's your problem. You understood fear once, long ago, but you've forgotten what it means. Someone who's forgotten fear has forgotten how to hide." Daario quickly pulled a dagger out, and after winking at Serana once again, stabbed into a wall covered by a bookcase. A scream came from the other end and the wall immediately gave way, the case and pieces of the wall falling all over the floor. The reason became apparent when the dust settled and a man could be seen in the middle of the dust and debris, dressed in the traditional slave master garb. "Fear is useful that way." He patted Grey Worm on the shoulder.

Grey Worm searched the hiding place and found elven daggers laying on the ground with a Son of the Harpy mask. Serana stayed by the door, her arms crossed, with one hand resting just shy of her mouth, and silently watched the entire affair. When Grey Worm came out holding the mask, she narrowed her glowing orbs and looked at the Harpy with disgust. "Cowards who attack from the shadows like you don't deserve the air they breathe."

"Says the Volkihar bitch that serves these cockless boys." The harpy laughed, despite the stab wound in his thigh. "Yes, we know who and what you are, blood drinker. Our new friends were quite informative."

"Well, at least your ego just condemned you to a slow death." Daario said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But thanks for confirming we're up against the Thalmor. They might just leave you the use of your legs after they're done with you." He nodded to the 'cockless boys', who were looking at the man with barely hidden rage. "I wouldn't count on them letting you live past tomorrow, though. Funny what freedom does for even former slave soldiers."

The slave master looked up defiantly at the Unsullied. "Let them kill me. I welcome it."

Serana chuckled. "Who said they were going to kill you? Grey Worm, let him go." The Commander of the Unsullied gave her a quizzical look, but she nodded her head and let the barest hint of a fang flash in the light. "I have a means of making him talk. Trust me."

"As you say, pale one." Grey Worm gave the order, and the soldier kicked the slave master down to the floor at Serana's feet.

"You know what I am, but do you know what I can do?" The vampire asked before seeming to blur out of sight. In reality, she moved so quickly that in the blink of an eye, the Harpy was pinned against the wall with her mouth just shy of his neck. "I can make you my thrall with a single bite." She hissed in his ear, and took some measure of pleasure from his terrified whimpering. Looking over her shoulder, her rage cooled somewhat when she saw Grey Worm and his fellow Unsullied looked uncomfortable at the idea. "I do apologize for this Grey Worm, but war is something I understand better than all of your men put together. I have walked this world for thousands of years, and have slept quite a bit more. Believe me when I say there is no half measures when fighting this particular enemy."

"I understand, Lady Volkihar. Unsullied do not approve, but understand." He replied and looked away. He didn't need to see someone enthralled to another's will. Even if this was for the right reasons. He had been a slave himself for far too long to ever be comfortable with the idea, no matter its shape or form.

Daario, meanwhile, said nothing, but only looked with intrigue and curiosity. Reading about the Volkihar clan and the various strains of vampirism that were known to Tamriel was one thing, but seeing one in action? That was something else entirely. He watched as Serana bit into the man's neck and began the process of enthralling the Harpy. He started to scream, but Daario rushed over to cover his mouth. A few moments later, the screams subsided and the man's eyes seemed to go dead for a few seconds before they returned to normal. But the satisfied gleam in Serana's orbs said her power had him under her thumb as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand before casually licking up what blood remained on her pale skin. "Waste not." She explained before regarding her new thrall. "Now, let's talk, shall we?"

"I...of course, Mistress. I'm sorry if I displeased you earlier."

"That is a useful trick." Daario mused aloud, amazed by the man's shift in personality. "I wish I had had access to that during some old interrogations. Would have been less….messy." He chuckled, but remained silent when the vampire shot him a dark smirk before turning back to the Harpy before them. Grey Worm understandably remained silent.

"How many Thalmor are here?" Serana asked.

"Six, that we know of."

"Do you know who they are, where we can find them? Or how to contact them at the very least?"

"They contact us. They keep their location a secret from us."

"No surprise, the Thalmor aren't stupid." Serana mused, having expected as much, but she had hoped for something more. Instead she looked to Daario for a moment before nodding her head, having come to some kind of decision. "Alright, this is how we're going to do this. You're going to go back to your Harpy allies. You will act as if nothing is wrong. But you're going to contact me, Grey Worm, or Daario the moment you can if the Thalmor return with new orders. In the meantime, I want to know everything you can tell us about the Sons of the Harpy."

After the Harpy had spilled his guts, Serana had the Unsullied tend to his injuries before sending him on his way. Grey Worm left with his men, having seen enough strange magic for one day, leaving her and Daario to their own devices. "Still think I'm worth pursuing, Daario?" She asked.

"I'll admit I have a new respect for what you can do, but if you had hoped to scare me off, you only did the reverse." He replied, a lopsided smirk on his bearded face as he leaned against the doorframe of the house they had broken into just a few minutes ago.

"Of course I did," Serana huffed, shaking her head. "You are something else." She didn't hide the smirk that played on her lips, though.

Daario chuckled and shrugged. "I live to impress, m'lady." His smirk disappeared though and he looked down a nearby street, where a small group of men and scantily clad women were congregating in front of a nearby brothel. "I was the son of a whore before I became a fighter in the Pits. I learned my craft there, perfected it, and joined the Second Sons. I have become so much more since Daenerys and Nakos marched on Yunkai, Astapor, and Meereen. I came from nothing, and I'll return to the dirt the same way. But because of the life I've had, I take what simple pleasures I can, for tomorrow might not ever come for a man such as myself."

"If this is your idea of getting to know each other, you're off to a good start." She admitted grudgingly, torn between trying to push him away to keep him safe from herself more than anything, and letting him closer because as loath as she was to admit it, she liked having him around. He didn't shy away from her, even after he had seen her enslave another man to her will. Nakos knew she could do it, but she had never used that particular power around him. Even though she doubted it'd have bothered him under the right circumstances, she preferred to deny her darker aspects as much as possible. And like Nakos, it was becoming quickly apparent that Daario didn't see her as a monster. It was an opinion she didn't share about herself, however. "You know what I am Daario….yet you still risk your health around me."

It wasn't a question, but Daario chose to answer her anyway, hearing the meaning behind her statement all too clearly. "Men are capable of truly monstrous things, Serana, and they don't need power like yours to be evil. You see yourself as a monster to be feared, but you don't give yourself enough credit, if you ask me. I've been around you long enough to see that." Daario looked downcast for a moment. "I've seen the evil of men. My own Second Sons were not always mine, they served the Titan's Bastard before me, and he was… brutal, and uncaring for a man in his position. I've been throughout the slaver cities and seen the cruelties men inflict on their own just because they can. I've seen children nailed to posts, left to rot and die in the desert sun, and serve as mile markers. These men needed no supernatural power to be evil, it is a choice. You choose to use what you were given, or cursed with, for something better than it was intended. That makes you a far better being than some of the men I've seen. Molag Bal may have reshaped you, but he didn't shape your choices to do with what he placed on you. You did."

"You and Nakos….he said the same thing, just with fewer words." Serana softly replied and looked up at the mercenary, a genuinely warm smile tugging at her dark lips. "Are you sure you aren't related?" Daario only laughed in reply.

Loredas, 20th of Evening Star, 5E 10

King's Landing

Nakos was waiting in the High Sparrow's room. The same exact room where Loras had his inquest. After giving it some thought, Nakos decided it would be best to keep Loras in the Royal Guard, not only to keep good ties with the Tyrells, but also to keep Loras close, in case the High Sparrow and the Faith Militant… or the Thalmor, tried anything. If he was at Highgarden, he would be too far to help. At least here, Nakos would be close to him. Or hang Loras up by his thumbs if he screwed up like he had again. Although, with the way Olenna had been hounding him since his return, Nakos doubted Loras would be giving him trouble again anytime soon.

Once the High Sparrow heard of the Tyrells' escape, he was fuming and wanted to see Nakos immediately. Nakos declined the invitation to the messenger, but snuck into the High Sparrow's room, so he could surprise the old man and have the upper hand. He wanted to play the Game, Nakos would give him a free lesson in setting up the situation with every advantage on his side. A lesson he was sure the High Sparrow wouldn't appreciate since he'd be on the losing end.

When the door opened and the High Sparrow walked in, Nakos slid into a dark corner. It was still afternoon, but Nakos was proficient enough that the shadows would hide him even now. He wasn't disappointed when the High Sparrow walked right by him without realizing it, and Nakos had to suppress the urge to chuckle. He waited until the old man had found the note he had planted under his simple pillow on his bed, before stepping out of the shadows. "It seems the Dark Brotherhood has taken an interest in you, High Sparrow."

To his credit, the old man didn't call out, but he still looked decidedly paler than usual when he turned to address Nakos. "It would seem so," he said, holding up the black hand marked piece of parchment. "Would you know anything about this?"

"Only what I've heard about them. Mostly from the times they've tried to kill me." Nakos admitted, a half-lie. "But hopefully, it's nothing more than a threat and they don't follow through with it. You wished to speak with me earlier, and now I assume your urgency for that talk is greater than ever now that you have that note. Do you have something you wish to say to me?"

"Loras and Margaery Tyrell." High Sparrow stated rather than asked.

"What about them?" Nakos asked innocently.

"They are no longer in the Black Cells. And I have heard that Ser Loras is once again back on the Royal Guard." The High Sparrow stated once again, but there was a just noticeable edge to his voice that said he didn't like it.

It seemed his plan to throw him off his game was working. Nakos had to make it a conscience effort not to smirk at his success so far. "So I have heard. And your point?"

"My point?" The High Sparrow huffed once. "I find it surprising that they just happened to disappear a few days after the inquest. You are the only one who has had issue with Ser Loras' arrest." The old man stared at the Redguard. "Did you have something to do with their escape?"

"I did not," Nakos replied. "I have witnesses that can say where I have been during the time of their likely escape." They'd support his alibi, but it'd be another lie on his part of course.

"Witnesses that would support you no matter what."

"Just like Olyvar," Nakos added, hiding the smirk that wanted to play on his lips. "Did you know he was murdered? I have people looking into his death, since I can't have vigilantes running around our city." The High Sparrow caught the subtle snub and scoffed. "Allow me to entertain the idea that you were right, and I did have something to do with the Tyrell's escape from your little charade of justice, what then? You'd try to arrest me? Kill me? You don't have the means to accomplish such a feat on your own, and you'd definitely bring war back to Westeros if you succeeded. If. The country needs stability in the face of change. Many people from Tamriel now live here, and many more have seen what lay beyond the Wall. You murder their hero, and you will have a civil war without end. You say you're a man of the people, you feed the hungry, you clothe the needy, you've done good things here. Yet the path you're determined to follow will ensure they die. Is that what you truly want?"

"What I want is for the laws of gods and men to be followed, no matter who is king." The High Sparrow said once again, even though a part of him knew Nakos was right. A very small part admittedly, but it was still there.

"And yet who decides what is law? You and your faith? Your holy text? You don't have the right to dictate who follows what law. The people chose me to serve Westeros as her ruler, and as ruler I have to decide the laws of men, to be followed and punished by the mortals who live here. The laws of the gods can be judged by the gods when we die. That is the way it was always supposed to have been. We take the god's justice into our own hands and we deny the gods their right to arbitrate their own justice. Would you be so arrogant as to deny the gods their own right to punish those who break their laws when the time is right?" Nakos leaned forward, knowing now he had the High Sparrow right where he needed him. The idea of offending the Seven by denying them their own rights was perfect.

The High Sparrow nodded, seemingly impressed by Nakos' way with words. Even he had to admit that if he were a lesser man, he might have even considered listening to this stranger's words and choose a different path, but he was certain of his path. He knew what he had been put on this world to do. "The people might have chosen you to rule, but evil yet lingers in your city and your country, your Grace. The misguided and unwashed masses still exist, even in your supposed better world."

Nakos shrugged and sat up straight again. "I can only help those who seek it, just like you. I will not force those who live in squalor to become more than what they choose to be. I give them all food and shelter as best I can, but in the end, I cannot live their lives for them. They must choose to improve themselves with what I can offer them."

"Just as I choose to follow the path the Seven have put in front of me, your Grace. To turn away from it now would mean turning my back on those I have helped since my arrival in the capital. By your own words, you cannot deny me my right to worship as I wish, nor those of the Sparrows that follow me."

"Oh, I do not deny you your right to worship any gods you choose, High Sparrow. That has always been the prerogative of the individual. I do, however, take exception to it when you organize an armed band of militants, and go around harassing everyone else and arresting people. If you seek to worship the Seven, then do so, but do it in peace, and not in conflict. If you continue to harass and harm people because they do not share your beliefs, then I will be forced into a more unfavourable position and then I will have to take action."

"I would expect nothing else, your Grace. We will never see eye to eye, I know this now, but I had hoped we might. You are a good man in your own way. Misguided, perhaps, and misled... but a good man."

Nakos only smirked and gave a jibe of his own. "As are you." With a nod of his head, he walked out the room, where Brynjolf was waiting. He had no doubt heard it all.

"I take it it went well?" The old thief asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer.

"For a fanatic, he's a reasonable sort." Nakos mused before turning to regard his old friend. "But keep an eye on him. You and Varys both. I doubt he will let the situation go."

Brynjolf chuckled. "I figured you'd say that. Oh, and before I forget, we've received word from Serana, and Arya. You're going to want to read the letters yourself."

Nakos sighed. "This ought to be interesting."

Middas, 24th of Evening Star

The Narrow Sea

Ramsay was impressed by what Eldria had brought with her as several ships, both Boltons and Thalmor sailed south. Nestled in a velvet lined box was a pair of metal hands. Unlike most he had ever seen, these she said were fully functional. "Ah the benefits of magic, I imagine. You are quite the beauty and such a clever one as well." Ramsay grinned up at the Thalmor who only shrugged as she picked up the right dwemer hand.

"You'd be surprised what you can find these days. Sorine, a Dawnguard inventor and tinkerer, was the first to make a fully operational device like these. She rediscovered the means to making simple items like these hands. We simply improved on her...unimaginative inventions." The elf chuckled darkly as she slid the hand down firmly onto Ramsay's right stump.

After a brief incantation, the small gemstone on the wrist began to glow, and the gears began to move. Ramsay felt an intense bolt of pain shoot up his stump and up his arm when something pierced the skin and drove into the muscle underneath, but it faded almost as quickly. Whatever had pierced into the bone and sinew underneath his skin made it impossible to remove the hand, ensuring it wouldn't fall off on him. More spectacularly, he was beginning to feel the skin of the metal, like it was actual flesh. The magic involved fused his spirit into the gemstone, like it was possessing the new appendage. "Ow." He grumbled in mock pain, but was astounded to find that when he tried to flex the metallic fingers, they performed nearly as well as his old fingers had. "Well, this is a vast improvement."

"Remember to keep the thing well oiled. Once a day."

"Aren't you going to give me a sword, too?" Ramsay huffed impatiently.

"You don't have a lot of patience, do you, Lord Ramsay Snow?" Eldria chuckled.

Ramsay grinned and waggled his eyebrows suggestively before he said. "I like my dessert before dinner, what can I say?"

"I can relate." Before Ramsay could say a word, she grabbed his arm just below his new hand and pulled his index finger down so it touched the center of his palm. When it did, a six inch dwemer blade unsheathed itself from the top of his new metal hand. "As I said, we improved on Sorine's inventions."

"Are you sure I can't convince you to marry me?"

"Ramsay, enough." Roose called out, having had enough of his bastard son's quips and flirting.

"There's no need for that, Lord Roose," Eldria replied. "I can handle him if he tries anything." Before Ramsay could grab his second hand, she slipped it on over the left stump and nodded her approval of the work once it had fused to his body and spirit. Unbeknownst to either man, the Thalmor had made sure to put a magic kill switch among the enchantments on them, ensuring their obedience. Roose would bargain for his son's life since he was the only heir he had if the need ever arose, and Ramsay would not dare cross her when she revealed the truth of the dwemer hands. On the off chance Roose did forsake Ramsay, planning to father another son, Eldria had a backup plan for that as well.

"Will he still be able to fight as he used to?" Roose asked.

"Depends. I know it has probably been awhile since he's held a sword. So his skills may be… rusty."

"Beautiful, clever, and funny. And she says she only favors women." Ramsay laughed and grinned all the wider before he crossed his arms over his chest, marveling at the fact he could feel his new metal hands as they found their way under his armpits. He was going to have to get used to that. "I might be a bit rusty, but I'm sure I can scrape it off easily enough."

Roose nodded, listening far more to Eldria despite his distaste of her, having expected such an answer. It was, however, surprising she had managed to bring them the one thing Ramsay needed to be a whole man once again. His opinion of her had gone up considerably because of that simple act. That didn't mean he trusted her, though. There was still many questions that needed to be answered. "How much longer?"

"We're almost there," Eldria answered simply. "Have patience."

"It has been ten years since the Legion humiliated the Boltons, my family, my House. I can wait." Roose replied, but his tone suggested he wouldn't wait for much longer.

"You're not the only one seeking revenge, Roose." Cregan Karstark said as he approached the group. "The Kinslayer, the bastard Robb Stark, still lives, and we will not rest until he and his devil spawn are in the dirt. Then I want Nakos' head and his devil spawn, and his fucking dragons, in the dirt right alongside him."

"Be careful what you wish for, Lord Cregan. You of all people should know it will not be that easy." Eldria informed the man, and stood from the small table that Roose had called his officers and herself to a strategy meeting, where she had revealed her gift to Ramsay. The fact she had been invited at all said two things to her. One, Roose wanted to keep an eye on her, and two, he trusted her enough to allow her to listen to his strategies, and even supply her own input. It wasn't much, but it was a lot more than she had hoped for so soon after meeting the Boltons.

"I never said it would be easy, but it is necessary. I will not suffer a kinslayer as my lord warden, and neither will the spirit of my cousin," Cregan scoffed.

"I understand, but attacking Nakos will be suicide. For the moment at least. To kill a dragon, you have to have every conceivable advantage, and a Dragonborn is a far more dangerous adversary. You lack numbers, resources, and most importantly, power. The Thalmor have these and more, but we know how to fight with more than sheer numbers. This is what we're doing now. We're going to isolate his allies, one by one." Eldria emphasized her point by tipping over the markers that were placed on a map of the world on the table. "And crush them, until Nakos has nothing left. But to accomplish this, we need power. And my superiors are in the process of acquiring the raw power we need, so you need to be patient and wait until the time is right. You'll have your revenge, I can guarantee you that much."

"Good." Cregan said, but just when Eldria thought she had him in the palm of her hand, he glowered down at her in open disgust. "You might have earned my lord Bolton's trust, but I'll never serve an elven woman, no matter how capable you think you are. I've had enough of you fucking foreigners to last me a lifetime."

Roose raised an eyebrow, while Ramsay grinned in curiosity, wondering what Eldria would do to answer the upstart Karstark. Eldria looked up towards the towering brute and walked her dexterous fingers to the collar of his heavy fur cloak. "Really? That's too bad. And here I thought that the Karstarks got the brains out of the Stark lineage." When they reached his neck, Cregan went to bat them away, but Eldria was the quicker. She glided them over his cheek, and sent a bolt of magic right through the base of his brain. He fell to the floor in a heap, his eyes wide and full of agony as his mouth opened and closed while body shaking spasms contorted him into a ball. His voice jerky mumbling, giving a mute testimony to the pain.

"Is there anyone else who wishes to speak about the 'fucking foreigners' that are trying to help you win this war against Nakos and his dragons?" Eldria asked innocently. When no one else stepped up to challenge her, she smirked and sat down at the table once more. "Good. I would hate to have to report back to my superiors that our allies became uncooperative. That tends to end very… messily all around."

"I have a question, two actually." Ramsay spoke up, his eyes alight in sadistic glee. "What was that neat trick, and can you teach me how to do that?"

At that, Eldria smiled sinisterly. "Only if you have a few decades of spare time, boy." She would never reveal the secrets of Arcana to humans if she could avoid it, especially more advanced spells like this one. The Agony Coil was not meant for lesser hands. She was rather pleased with the spell she had learned from Ancano. "But if you must know the name, it's an advanced spell called the Agony Coil. Think of it as direct neuro-electrical stimulation of your body's pain receptors, all of them. Imagine all the worst kinds of pain you have ever experienced, times a thousand. Now imagine that pain going on all over your body, for as long as I wish. He doesn't need to imagine it..."

"And I ask again, are you sure I can't convince you to marry me? We have so much in common, Lady Joroth." Ramsay stated, putting as much charm into his voice as he could. Once more though, he was disappointed when Eldria chuckled and shook her head. He wasn't completely deterred though and asked another question. "Fair enough, can I at least show you my favorite means of interrogation the first chance we get if you agree to use that nifty trick again?"

"Watch you flay a man alive? Hmm…" Eldria pondered for a moment. "While far messier than I'd prefer, I admit there is something to be said about watching someone work with their hands." Eldria said and stroked her chin in genuine thought before her green eyes lit up with malevolent glee. "You know what? I might very well take you up on that offer, Ramsay Bolton."

Roose had enough of the banter and stepped in between them. "Can we focus on the task at hand?"

"Yes, let's." Eldria motioned for him to follow and the two of them went into the captain's quarters. When the doors were closed and they were alone, Eldria's tone and body language became firm. "What is the rush?"

"You promised us vengance-"

"And you will get it," Eldria said, speaking before the last word was out of Roose's mouth. "But rushing is the perfect way to get yourself killed. You must have heard the stories of what Nakos is capable of."

Roose sneered and folded his arms. "That's all they are. Stories."

The Altmer shook her head slowly. "No, Lord Roose. They aren't."

Roose thought for a moment. "So if we're not attacking King's Landing, where are we going that could be a blow to Nakos?" Eldria only smirked and pointed to the map. Roose saw the location and shrugged. "Why there?"

"You will see, Lord Bolton. You will see."

Fredas, 26th of Evening Star

King's Landing

Jon Stark stood in the Tower of the Hand, looking out one of the windows, towards the east… towards Tamriel. Ever since he displayed the power of the Thu'um ten years ago, and after Nakos had been crowned king, Nakos had sent him to train with the Greybeards so he could gain mastery over the dragonblood that flowed within him. Despite him being only half-Targaryen, it was enough for him to have the potential to learn some mastery over the Thu'um. As a result, it did not take as long for him as it did for others, who had to spend years at High Hrothgar to learn one word. But at the same time, it was not as easy for him as it was for Nakos or Dany, and of course, he would never reach the same level or power as the. Jon spent ten years in Skyrim, leaving Westeros a few weeks after Nakos and Dany had been crowned. During his time at High Hrothgar, he gained mastery over the Unrelenting Force Shout, and of course, being raised in the North of Westeros, could not resist learning at least the first word of the Frost Breath Shout.

"Do you miss it?" Nakos' voice came from beside him, eliciting a small gasp from Jon. Nakos chuckled. "Sorry."

"No, you're not." Jon chuckled himself. "You enjoy doing that to people."

Nakos smirked. "Maybe. But you didn't answer my question. Do you miss it?"

"Skyrim?" When Nakos nodded, Jon shrugged. "A part of me does. But my home will always be Westeros."

"Of course it will be. I don't doubt that. But I am more concerned with your time with the Greybeards."

"Well, I've never had to kill anyone with my Shout. Not since I used to defeat the Night's King."

"So you've gained control over your Voice."

"I like to think I have."

Nakos thought for a moment. "Good," he said finally. "But beware. I would not want you to use it here in King's Landing unless you absolutely have to. The last thing we need is for Cersei or any of her… friends to find an excuse to make the city fear you, me, and Dany."

"I understand, Your Grace." Jon bowed and was silent for a moment.

"Has there been any other trouble out in the city?" asked Nakos.

"No, Your Grace," answered Jon. "Bronn and the city guard have done well. But seeing as we have a wise and just ruler, there hasn't been much to do regarding arresting troublemakers. Of course, we have the occasional pickpocket or thief, and a few Sparrows and Faith Militant causing trouble here and there. But nothing major."

"Make sure they stay on their guard," said Nakos. "I have a bad feeling that neither the High Sparrow nor Cersei are going to leave well enough alone." He looked over to Rhaelor and Tyrion, working at one of the desks. Daenerys was at another desk, going through letters.

Jon followed his gaze. "You expect her to target your children?"

"I don't know, but I am watching her every move. Just in case."

Jon looked back at Rhaelor and Tyrion for a moment before reaching another conclusion. "It's not them you're really concerned about though, is it?"

Nakos' brow furrowed in worry. "I'm always worried about Dany, if that's what you're asking. But she can take care of herself."

"I meant that ever since you heard about what was going on across the Narrow Sea. You've been more on edge than before, not since the battle with Dagon have you been this wound up."

Nakos took a deep breath. "We've received reports about Thalmor from across the Narrow Sea. They've armed the Sons of the Harpy with elven weapons and now the Faith Militant are armed with elven weapons."

"You think the Thalmor are here?"

"Either that or they're sending weapons across the Narrow Sea and arming the Faith Militant."

"I've heard a lot about these Thalmor when I was in Skyrim, but you're treating them almost as if they are as big a threat as Dagon was."

Nakos nodded. "They are, in a way. They were in a war with the Empire, which led to a treaty called the White-Gold Concordat. But the conditions of the treaty outlawed the worship of Talos in the Empire, formally disbanded the Blades, and delivered a large portion of southern Hammerfell into the control of the Aldmeri Dominion. The Emperor, Titus Mede II, never really had a say in the matter. He made these concessions to the Thalmor hierarchy in order to give the Imperial Legion time to recover its strength, as it had been decimated in the Battle of the Red Ring."

Nakos continued, "The ban enforced regarding the worship of Talos greatly angered the people of Skyrim. Talos originated from Skyrim and has been a beloved deity of the people of Skyrim for generations. The ban eventually led to the civil war and the Stormcloak Rebellion."

"All that from one group of men?"

"Technically they're elves," Nakos quipped with a smirk. "But yes."

"Seven hells," Jon muttered. "And now they're here in Westeros… and across the sea in Essos. What do you think they're up to?"

"From what my spies in Essos told me, the Thalmor are looking for some sort of energy source. And now they've apparently made some allies here in Westeros. But I have no idea what they can be up to. Whatever it is… I know it's not going to be good. The Thalmor know how to play the game, far better than even the Lannisters. The White-Gold Concordat caused a rift between the Empire and its allies, the Redguards and the Nords. They wanted to make the Empire weaker. I personally don't think they actually care all that much about Talos worship on principal, but it was a convenient excuse to rile the Nords against the Empire, making it look like the Empire had forsaken its roots. Past wars have shown that one sure way to get under the Nords' skin is to dictate to them who they can and cannot worship." Nakos took a sip of water before continuing.

"The other part of the treaty was that the Empire had to hand over the southern reaches of Hammerfell, the homeland of the Redguards, my people, to the Dominion. They claimed it was to prevent the pirate raids on their own homeland, but the truth was it was so that the Redguards would secede from the Empire in their entirety. They fought us for only four years before they declared a stalemate and they themselves signed the second treaty of Stros M'kai. We were never their real target."

Jon pondered on all that Nakos was telling him. "And now they're here in Westeros." His voice was almost a whisper as he thought about all the trouble the Thalmor could cause. "Gods help us." It was then that he noticed the Queen, Danaerys, sitting at the table. She had been silent all this while, listening.

But now she spoke. "You heart is here in Westeros, Nakos. But my worry is in Meereen. Those Elves would have no concern to the enslavement of humans again. All the work we did there may be brought undone."

Nakos nodded slowly. "I know. But we cannot fight them head on. They operate from the shadows. As must we. This isn't a fight won with weapons… not yet, anyway. We need to know their plans before we can move forward."

"And what if they attack before you are ready?" Tyrion joined into the conversation. "What if you know nothing of their plans when they make their move?"

"Then…" A fire kindled in Nakos' eyes. "We pray to the Nine… and then burn the enemy as they come. Unlike Dagon, we don't know how they will hit us yet. Dagon was very direct, he came at us from only one real direction. The Thalmor are interwoven among the general populations, and can slip in undetected, striking at us from anywhere they choose. We can't simply beat them back with numbers and strength of arms. We have to be able to fight a shadow war with them equally as well. That requires planning, and no small amount of good fortune."

"But how long have they been planning, I wonder," said Tyrion, eliciting a few seconds of silence from the rest of the group.

Before any of them could speak, the door to the Tower opened and Grand Maester Dercin briskly walked in, holding a small scroll in his hand. "News from Dragonstone, Your Grace. From Lord Stannis."

Nakos took the scroll and as he read it, his hands began to shake with anger. "It seems as though the Thalmor are making their move now. This is a letter from Lord Stannis Baratheon, asking for aid. Bolton and Karstark ships have been reported approaching Dragonstone, along with other ships. But Lord Stannis doesn't recognize their sigil."

"The Thalmor," Tyrion stated rather than asked. "When was the message sent?" he asked Dercin.

"I came as soon as the message arrived, my lord."

"So, a day at the most." Tyrion looked to Nakos. "Will you even have time to rally your men and women?" Nakos shook his head, and Tyrion bit his lower lip. "Then how do you expect to come to Lord Stannis' aid?"

Nakos glanced at him, and Tyrion knew that look. "The only way I know how. Get as many soldiers and healers onto the fastest ships we have, and move for Dragonstone. I am going on ahead."

Loredas, 27th of Evening Star

Dragonstone

By the time Nakos and Odahviing arrived at Dragonstone, the battle had already begun. Several ships were sieging Dragonstone from the water, catapulting stones, while thousands of soldiers were either rowing towards the shores, or already on the shore, fighting towards Dragonstone. The Baratheon forces held their own against the Boltons and the Karstarks, but were helpless against the Thalmor, who used their Destruction magic to its full advantage.

Nakos' blood began to boil at the sight of the Boltons and the Karstarks aiding an enemy of humanity. They didn't know the Thalmor like he did. The Dominion was merely using them like tools. He didn't think Roose would ever trust anyone from Tamriel, never mind the Thalmor, for anything. Apparently the Elves had quite the silver tongue in their ranks to manage to convince the Boltons of anything.

"What's the plan, Dovahkiin?" Odahviing asked.

"Drop me down onto the shores, then take care of the ships," Nakos said.

The red dragon growled, knowing what Nakos had in mind. With a roar, he dived down, pulling up at the last minute. Nakos leaped off the dragon's back and landed on the shores. He was dressed in his dragonbone armor and armed with his dual dragonbone swords. When the Baratheon soldiers saw him, they raised up a deafening cheer.

Nakos took in a deep breath, before Shouting, "YOL… TOOR SHUL!" A great stream of fire erupted, forming a barrier between the Baratheons, and the enemy. The eyes of the Dragonborn turned towards the Boltons, Karstarks and Thalmor, his rage now very real.

"Why did you come here, Thalmor? If you wanted to bring me down, you should have come for me, and me alone. Don't drag the rest of the world into your poisonous crusade!"

The Boltons and the Karstarks just about fled at the demonstration of Nakos' power, but the Thalmor stood firm. They didn't answer the Dragonborn's challenge, though.

Nakos expected as much. "You would die for such a pointless cause? For revenge?"

One of the Thalmor walked forward, but far enough that the heat would kill him. "Who said anything about bringing you down? We want all of Westeros and Essos to fall. The age of man is about to end."

"Not while I am alive, and you know I don't fall easily."

"Not in battle, no."

The Thalmor's response elicited a murmur from the Baratheons behind Nakos, and he knew what the Thalmor were trying to say. It was true that Nakos would not fall in battle or war, not with his Thu'um or his dragons. They would have as much success killing him as they would tryin to kill Alduin. But they would have more success through politics, and Nakos knew that the Thalmor were more experienced than he was in that area. He would not be able to face off with them through politics, not without Tyrion's help.

He pushed the thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand. He pointed with his sword to their ships out on on the water. They looked back to see several ships burning and Odahviing flying above them. "As you can see, you won't have any backup,and you are trapped on this island. No way back to the Dreadfort. I will only ask you once. Surrender, and I will make sure you are treated well as prisoners of war."

"Why should we trust you?" A Bolton soldier asked.

"It's better than your alternative," Nakos quipped back. Several soldiers exchanged nervous glances with one another. Most of them were shaking, no doubt out of fear.

"You would listen to him?" A Thalmor asked. "You can't trust him, you know. He'll kill you as soon as you surrender."

"On my honor as King of Westeros, I promise you no harm will befall you… if you surrender peacefully."

"Enough of this!" The same Thalmor that had spoken earlier pushed his fellow soldiers out the way and raised his sword above his head. Nakos didn't bother to draw his own sword. Instead, keeping his hands at his side, he cast an Ice Spike that struck the high elf in the chest and part of it came out the other side. He fell dead upon the spot without a groan.

"Anyone else?" Nakos quipped, half as a taunt, half as a warning. At first, none of them said anything. But then, to Nakos' surprise they all began cheering. A frown came upon Nakos' forehead. Why were they cheering?

"Your Grace!" One of the Baratheon soldiers yelled. When Nakos turned around, his heart sank. There was the castle… on fire. Nakos cursed at himself. This was a ploy to draw him away from the castle while the real threat was inside. His eyes burned with a righteous fury and he turned back to the Bolton and Karstark soldiers who were charging at him and the Baratheons.

"YOL… TOOR SHUL!" Fire erupted from Nakos' mouth and enveloped every single enemy soldier on the beach. Nakos didn't bother to watch as he quickly turned and ran towards the castle. The sounds of battle were still ringing as he ran past soldiers fighting. If his hunch was correct, then there were three people in that castle in very grave danger. As he ran up the steps to the main gate, he was met by several Bolton and Kartsark soldiers who were facing off with Baratheon soldiers. He quickly cast some Destruction spells to turn the fight into the Baratheons' favor, but did not stop to assist in the fighting. The main gates were already wide open and just inside, he could see Stannis fighting alongside his soldiers. He was holding his own, but there was a Thalmor dirctly behind him, about to strike him down. Nakos didn't hesitate to draw his bow and send an arrow between his eyes.

"I thought that was you!" Stannis exclaimed when he caught sight of the Redguard.

"Where are Shireen and Selyse?!" Nakos had to raise his voice so he could be heard over the clamor of fighting.

"Hiding in their chambers. I'll go with you!"

Nakos put a hand up. "No! Stay here and fight with your men! I'll get them out of here!" Nakos rushed up the myriad of stone steps fighting off Boltons, Karstarks, and Thalmor until he reached the upper chambers. He kicked down the doors and saw several Bolton and Karstark soldiers surrounding Selyse and Shireen, as if holding them hostage, and all their eyes were on him.

Nakos didn't hesitate. "TIID!" Time slowed to crawl and Nakos put an arrow in between each of their eyes… or in them. Once the effect wore off, he began rushing to their side. "Are you alright, Lady Selyse? Lady Shireen?"

He didn't get three strides inside before he suddenly felt paralyzed, unable to move, and he collapsed to the ground like a limp fish. He could see, smell, taste, and hear everything else. But he could not move at all.

"NOO!" Selyse screamed and rushed over to his side. "Your Grace!" Other Thalmor came and pulled her off of him.

"You can't do anything to help him," said a female voice from the doorway. "He's paralyzed, and will continue to be paralyzed for as long as my friend here can hold the spell. And that could be a very, very long time."

Nakos could not move his eyes, but he could see two legs and the fringes of a robe come into his line of sight.

Whoever was standing above him groaned. "Ugh. Pick him up."

Nakos felt himself being picked up and found himself face-to-face with a Thalmor. She reminded him of Elenwen, but this Altmer was much younger looking. Not as many wrinkles on her face, though it didn't mean she was just as old.

"So this is Nakos Nalldiir, the mighty Dragonborn, now King of Westeros," she said mockingly. "Look at you. You can't even move." She smirked. "My name is Eldria Joroth, by the way. It's nice to meet you, too." With a thrust of her head, she signaled for the Thalmors holding him to drag him back. Another Thalmor was holding his hand up, his hand glowing with green energy. He was the one holding the Paralysis spell.

"So you came to rescue the Baratheons," Eldria said. "Just like I knew you would." She smirked. "Yes, I knew you would be here. You're predictable. Always looking to protect the innocent. You had to know that it would be your downfall."

This was a trap, Nakos thought, mentally kicking himself for not foreseeing it.

"Is he here?" a familiar voice came from the doorway.

"Ah, Lord Bolton," the Thalmor smiled evilly. "You found us."

Roose Bolton walked into Nakos' field of view and when he saw how helpless he was, he made a triumphant smile, though his lips never parted. "Hello, Your Grace." His mocking tone was evident. "It's so good to see you again."

Another man walked into the room, and when Nakos saw his dwarven metal prosthetics, he had an idea who he is: Ramsay Bolton, the bastard son of Roose. "Ah, so this is the great King of Westeros. Whom the people of Skyrim call the Dragonborn." He chuckled evilly. "Not much powerful right now, though, are you?" He walked up slowly to Nakos. "Oh, the things I wish I can do to you right now. I'm still getting used to these new hands, so I'm not as… dextrous as I used to be." Ramsay looked to Roose. "My father, on the other hand…"

"There'll be no flaying Nakos," Eldira interrupted. "We need him alive."

Roose slowly turned to look at Shireen and Selyse. "And what about them?"

Eldria followed his gaze and smirked. "You can do what you want to them."

Nakos screamed internally. He tried desperately to move, but the Thalmor agent holding the Paralysis spell did not waver. Nakos was helpless. He felt helpless. Roose only smiled ever so slightly as he turned and began to slowly walk to the Baratheon women. He crouched in front of them and brandished a knife. "Don't worry, my ladies. This won't take long."

Before he could do anything, the door to their chambers burst open, and in walked Bolton soldiers, holding Stannis Baratheon hostage. "Look who we found!"

"Ah, Lord Stannis," the Thalmor woman teased. "You're just in time. We were about to flay your wife and daughter. But now that you're here, you can bear witness before you die yourself."

Stannis looked at Nakos frantically. "Your Grace, do something!"

The Thalmor woman clicked her tongue. "I'm afraid he can't. My friend there is holding a Paralysis Spell. As long as he holds it, Nakos can't move or speak… and therefore can't Shout. He's helpless… and he will watch helplessly as we kill all three of you." She turned to Roose. "As you were."

Roose nodded. "Pick Lady Selyse up." Several soldiers did so. He held the knife up in her face. "Don't worry, my lady. I've had years of practice."

"NO!" Stannis broke free from the soldiers holding and took a sword from one of their sheaths. With a mighty swing, he decapitated two of the nearest soldiers. But he did not do much else as Bolton, Karstark, and Thalmor soldiers were on him in an instant, their swords rising and falling on him. Shireen and Selyse could only scream and watch as her father was cut down before her.

As Roose turned to watch, Selyse snatched the dagger from his hand and jammed the dagger into his shoulder. He groaned and gave her a backhand, sending her to the ground in a heap. "You should not have done that," he said as he pulled the dagger from his shoulder. Without hesitation, he stabbed Selyse in the belly and twisted. "I was going to flay you, but this will be just as satisfying."

Shireen let out a scream and crawled to her mother's side, trying to stop the bleeding with her hands. "NOO! MOTHER!"

Selyse said nothing, but weakly raised her hands to touch her daughter's face, then she went limp, her arm falling to her side.

"Now as for you," Roose said, pointing the dagger at the young woman. "You, I will take my time with."

"Get away from me, you bastard!" Shireen screamed and ended up being backhanded by Ramsay. The Dwemer metal of his prosthetics merely flicking against Shireen's cheek was enough to send the young woman to the ground.

"Watch your mouth… or I'll make you use it another way," the bastard said with an evil smirk.

Roose pulled his son back. "Enough. Her lips will be the first to go. Then her tongue." He gestured for his men to pick her up. "If you don't struggle, my lady, it won't hurt as much."

Shireen still struggled to no avail. The soldiers were much stronger than she was. As Roose placed the blade on her skin, there came a deafening roar and the rear wall of the chambers exploded inward, stone and fire crashing inside. Everyone ducked for cover from the giant stones as they flew in all directions.

There was Odahviing, hovering at the window. Everyone, or the Boltons and Karstarks, al least, stared in horror. The Thalmor stared mostly out of surprise. The Thalmor holding the Paralysis spell against Nakos was distracted enough that he dropped the spell for a moment. It was all Nakos needed.

"HUN KAAL ZOOR!" An ethereal portal opened and out stepped a ghostly figure, armed with a two-handed greatsword. Everyone hesitated for a split second before rushing to attack the new arrival. The ghost made short work of them.

Nakos conjured an Ice Spear and sent it into the head of the Thalmor who had held him prisoner. The force of the spell took the elf's head clean off. Gaining strength, he joined Hakon One-Eye in the fray, cutting down Boltons, Karstarks, and Thalmor alike, until only Eldria, Roose, and Ramsay were left.

Nakos pointed his dragonbone swords at Eldria's throat, breathing heavily. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now."

Eldria put her hands up, but a smirk was still on her lips. "It's not your style. You and I both know that."

Nakos looked at the Thalmor with rage in his eyes. "You presume a lot, Eldira." Nakos looked to Roose and Ramsay and smiled a sinister grin. "After what you three have pulled today, I'm liable to give anything a go. Tell me, do you three know what happened to the Slave Masters of Meereen?"

Roose only shrugged nonchalantly. "I've heard rumors."

"Well, you're about to get a first-hand experience."

Several Baratheon soldiers by now had arrived, no doubt from hearing Shireen's screams and the roar of Odahviing. At a nod from Nakos, they apprehended the Boltons and placed them in chains. "What should we do with them, Your Majesty?"

"Chain them and send them to King's Landing by boat," the Redguard answered. "I want guards on them at all times, and I mean… all times. Even when they relieve themselves."

"And what about her?" One soldier pointed to Eldria.

"Yes, Your Grace," Eldria smirked. "What about me?"

Nakos pretended to stroke his chin in thought, before that same sinister grin crossed his features. "The Black Cells are rather nice this time of the year, my dear. The Dark Brotherhood and I have some questions for you, and depending on your answers, that will determine whether or not you get to see your precious Alinor again, or if I send them your head."

"And how do you expect to stop me from using magic?"

Nakos fished into his pocket, and withdrew a black metal ring. He flipped it around in his hand. "You see this? I designed this with your Justiciar wizards in mind, Eldira. It is a ring that nullifies magicka in its wearer."

Nakos leaned down and showed the ring's inner edge. It had several fish hook like barbs all pointed in the same direction. "See these barbs? It makes the ring easy to slip on a thumb or finger, but try to remove it? And it will do what your Bolton allies just tried on the Baratheons here. It'll strip the flesh right down to the bone of the digit it's placed on."

Eldria's smile quickly faded and only watched as Nakos placed the ring on her right ring finger. She could feel the magicka inside her already being hindered.

"Take her away!" Nakos ordered and the Baratheons took the enemies away.

"Your Grace…" Shireen asked timidly, still hovering over her mother's body. "What about my parents?"

Nakos helped Shireen up. "We shall mourn them. Have some of the men gather their bodies for transport to Storm's End. They should be given their proper farewells there in their home."

Shireen looked to Nakos, and she saw the fires of rage in his eyes. She knew that fire, even as a young girl, she had seen it in him when he prepared to go to war against Dagon the monster.

"Come, my lady," Nakos guided her to the dragon. "I'll take you with me."

'They came into my lands, attacked my people, and declared open war. If it's war you want Queen Erisare Greywatch, then you shall have it.' Nakos thought, his jaw clenched tight.