"I waited my whole life to get here," Cersei explained as she looked at the Iron Throne. "Spent years married to a pig of a man who betrayed me at every turn."

"As I heard the tale, your Grace, that betrayal went both ways," Daenerys pointed out, infusing Cersei's title with as much sarcasm as she could manage.

"You don't understand!" she shouted. "This is mine and I won't give it up."

"Surrender and live," Daenerys offered.

"I'll die before I see another sitting on my throne."

"So be it!"

Returning to her seat Cersei commanded the first group of her guard to disarm and subdue the imposter. Daenerys retreated as the first men approached, hearing Arya's lessons in her head. Be quick, wait for the right moment then strike.

Holding out her sword as if surrendering Daenerys waited as the first guard grabbed her arm and the second reached for her weapon. With a stomp on the man's foot she shook loose from his hold and tightened her grip on the sword. She brought it up as fast as she could and sliced a deep, vertical line from the man's nose to his forehead. As he fell back and died she barely turned in time to stop the sword on her right. Again she backed up, and they dueled while the third man in the trio approached, trying to reach her undefended back.

Daenerys thought of Arya as she fought, not only her lessons but the woman. She thought of how disappointed Arya would be if anything happened to her, but somethings couldn't be helped. Valar Morghulis. She was losing the fight and she knew it. She was moving as fast as she could and was barely able to fend off the two guards. What hope would she have when Cersei sent the rest? She felt foolish then for thinking she was anything like her famous, warrior ancestors. She was certain that they wouldn't find themselves in such a perilous position.

In a move that stunned even her she turned to her left in an elegant spin and then waited for her pursuer to follow. When he did she pivoted and buried the steel in his gut. A hushed gasp echoed through the room, but her success was short lived as the third guard brought his sword down toward her hand. He knocked her weapon away and she knew it was over. She'd killed but it wasn't enough.

"Kneel!" Cersei commanded but Daenerys refused, staying stone-faced and defiant in the face of death. Annoyed by the disrespect she made a snap decision. "Kill her."

She thinks of Arya in that moment as she waits for the sword to fall, but it doesn't happen. Instead there is a vicious snarl, a matching growl and a horrific scream. When she looked away from the Queen she saw Nymeria on top of the man who had intended to execute her. Bleeding from a mangled hand the wolf went for his neck and put an end to the threat permanently.

"By the Gods, more creatures. First the winged demons and now you've got…" her words trailed off as Nymeria turned, blood smeared across her face, human flesh in her teeth. "What is that? I've seen those before."

Bending down to pick up her sword Daenerys winced at her injured ribs before she straightened up. "This is a direwolf Lady Lannister," Daenerys explained, as she petted Nym with the hand not holding a sword. "They are very common in the North I'm told."

"Direwolf?' she asked in disbelief. "The Star…" she stopped short of speaking their name. "Where did you get it?"

Daenerys felt a smile on her lips as she sensed the Lannister's fear. She took a step toward the throne, and the remaining guards with Nymeria right beside her. "The wolf is not mine it belongs to my lover."

With her façade crumbling Cersei tried to remain composed. "Your lover? The Stark boys are all dead or damaged. Do you lie with the cripple or the bastard on the Wall?"

Behind her the door to the throne room opened and Daenerys knew without looking who it was. "I did not lie with any of the Stark men, you are correct about that, but I didn't need to because I found a Stark woman quite to my liking."

Cersei's mouth formed the words, but she stayed silent. Finally, after a hard swallow she had success. "Sansa Stark belongs to Ramsay Bolton and knowing him she's surely of no use to anybody now."

Daenerys's anger was mirrored by that of her lover, who was still hiding in the shadows and the direwolf who remained very visible. "While I hear Sansa Stark is very beautiful," Daenerys said, making sure to speak loud enough for Arya to hear, "it is her sister my heart belongs to."

The Queen squinted in confusion. "Her sister? Anya, Arya, the little girl with the sword?"

It happened in a flash then. Arya leapt from the darkness into a battle against the remaining Lannister guards. She swirled and danced and spun and if Daenerys didn't know better she would have suspected Arya was enjoying herself. With the battle back on Nymeria lunged in to join her owner and together the two wolves cut down more than half of Cersei's guards.

When there were only four guards remaining, Arya was pinned in the corner of the room by three of them, while the fourth approached Daenerys.

The rage she'd lived with for so long boiled over. "Touch her and you better hope you can fly."

The guard laughed, sounding as though he was choking. "I've never fucked a Queen before," he said as he closed the distance to an unmoving Daenerys. "Maybe I should take my chance before its too late."

A wounded Nymeria limped toward Daenerys to protect her but the guard's laughter only grew more intense. "A puppy and her bitch."

Furious and more than a little concerned Arya closed her eyes tightly and thought of nothing but her bond with Nymeria. Inside the wolf's body she felt the pain of her injuries and she whimpered in response as she tried to guide the animal to move.

It all happened at once, Drogon made an appearance, sticking his head through the opening in the wall once again to snap his jaw and terrify both the living and the dead alike. At the same time Arya in the wolf's body jumped for her enemy, clamping down on his wrist. Sensing her opening Daenerys wielded her sword as though she'd been doing it all her life. With Nym's help she drove her sword through the guard's chest.

While Cersei complained about inferior soldiers, Daenerys commanded Nym to help Arya but the wolf didn't move. Still in Nymeria's body Arya had no intention of venturing far, no matter how much danger her human body was in.

Aware of her precarious position Cersei called for help from behind the throne. Daenerys put the fake Queen to the back of her mind and set instead to helping Arya. She rushed over, and Nymeria followed. Moving faster than she thought possible she watched one of the guards cut into an unresponsive Arya's arm.

After another whimper from the wolf Daenerys bent down and grabbed her muzzle, looking into her grey eyes. Without being told she knew she was speaking to the woman she loved. "Save yourself," she said. "I'm fine." Nothing happened so Daenerys tried again. "Please!"

Right there while Daenerys watched Nymeria's eyes changed color and she whimpered briefly before the Queen released her. Looking to the corner, where Arya was trapped she saw the woman looking back at her, rather than her attackers. From an unseen door hidden in the stone a massive man wearing full armor came through, needing to duck his head to fit. Arya recognized him immediately as he went to take up his post next to his patron. The Mountain.

"Let her go and I'll let you live," Daenerys bargained, sensing the danger.

"Daenerys, no!" Arya shouted until an elbow to her throat silenced her.

This had Cersei's attention. "You'll retreat, for her?"

"Yes," she agreed quickly.

"You'll swear allegiance to me and take your army back across the sea?" she asked, her excitement shining through with each word.

Daenerys was enraged but she looked to her lover and the answer slipped from her mouth. "Yes, provided she remains unharmed."

Arya couldn't listen to this. "Daenerys, Daenerys listen to me please." Their eyes met and she didn't see a hint of fear in them, only regret and love. "Don't do this for me. Take what's yours." Even once the words stopped Arya's lips kept moving. Daenerys watched and after three cycles she understood what Arya was trying to tell her. She hadn't recognized it at first because she was speaking Valyrian. She stared for a few extra seconds to ensure she got the message correct. She repeated Arya's silent words aloud. "Valar Morghulis, I love you."

Tears blurred her vision until she blinked them back. Arya wasn't going to die, even if she was willing because Daenerys wouldn't allow it. "I love you too," she said loudly, not caring who knew it. With motivation beyond anything she'd ever felt, the negotiations in earnest. "Let her go," she said to Cersei. "You can have what you want. Anything you want."

Arya couldn't let her do this. With one last look at her Queen, her Daenerys, she threw her elbow out as hard as she could, while her leg straightened for a kick. Acting on the moment of surprise she grabbed the blade near her neck and did her best to control it, taking a slice on the cheek before Nym bit down on the man's leg, weakening his attack.

Terrified Daenerys watched in horror as Arya tried to sacrifice herself. She followed the wolf into the combat, swinging her sword with equal parts anger and fear.

The door to the room opened again and Jorah, Grey Worm and the Hound all staggered in with various wounds, while the Unsullied held off the remaining troops at the door.

The Clegane brothers upon seeing one another forgot about everyone else and moved to the center of the room. Jorah and Grey Worm rushed toward their Queen, calling her name.

Arya did her best to avoid the most severe of the wounds but she was at a disadvantage from the start. Blood leaked from her face, her arm, stomach and both legs. The only thing keeping her on her feet was the knowledge that Daenerys needed her.

By the time Jorah and Grey Worm reached the far corner of the room where Daenerys and Arya were fighting the worst was already over. One of the guards had Daenerys's sword in his chest, and he was dying, but before he fell away he buried his sword into her stomach.

When she collapsed Daenerys landed in Arya's arms. The Stark screamed in agony as she felt the weight of her lover and lowered her carefully to the stone. Jorah's rage matched her own as he assessed the damage. Grey Worm, looked for someone to kill, before he looked to Arya and asked, "What can we do? We must do something!"

"She's dead," Cersei provided from behind her throne. She was torn between watching the Mountain and the Hound and watching the final moments of her enemy's life.

Arya looked at her with undisguised rage. She growled and her wolf joined in. "If she dies, you'll be next I swear it to the Old Gods of my father, the New Gods of my mother and the Many Faced God I serve, you will die today."

For once Jorah seemed to agree with her and they both looked to Daenerys, before Grey Worm's unanswered question settled. An idea sparked inside her and gave her hope. Could she help Daenerys? She didn't know but she'd seen it done once.

Shouting, she demanded Grey Worm find Beric and Thoros. If anyone could save her it would be them. In addition, she commanded Jorah and an Unsullied to take Cersei into custody. While they did Arya knelt on the stone next to Daenerys's body and watched the blood seep out, around the steel. "She's as dead as your mommy and daddy," Cersei mocked.

One of the Unsullied offered to kill her, but Arya barely heard it. Her only focus was Daenerys. Kneeling down in her blood she touched the dragon's face, pleased that it was still warm to the touch. "Hang on my love," she pleaded in High Valyrian, knowing Daenerys preferred the language to any other. "Just hang on, I can't go on without you."

Across the room the Mountain was defeating his brother, inching him toward the rooms largest brazier. With Jorah on one side and Arya on the other the Queen lay motionless while they waited for the Beric and his priest.

As soon as they were in the room, Arya was on her feet and running toward them. In her absence Nymeria took up the guard post, watching over Daenerys. "We need your help," she explained as she dragged them over.

They looked at the carnage all around, at Daenerys and Cersei, at the Mountain and his brother. "She's dead," the priest said gently. "I'm sorry girl."

That was unacceptable. She grabbed Thoros by the shirt and turned him. "You saved him once," she reminded him, using her sword to point to Beric. "Do the same thing for Daenerys now."

"It won't work," Thoros tried to explain, looking to Beric for help.

"Even if he could do it, it wouldn't be of use," Beric told her confidently. "She doesn't believe as we do, the Lord of Light will surely not resurrect her."

"Try!" Arya demanded, looking down at the color draining from Daenerys's face.

"It won't work," Thoros repeated.

This time she pounced. In a flash her blade was at his throat and in her other bloody hand she held a dagger to Beric's good eye. "If you don't try, how long do you think you'll live?"

The two men shared a look between them and Beric nodded. Arya stepped back and knelt down, putting her hands on the wound to stem the bleeding as Beric removed the sword. Without preamble Thoros began to pray.

Everyone watched in amazement and interest except the Cleganes who were still in the midst of combat. Long seconds passed and Arya waited for Daenerys to rise. Tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheek. "I love you," she whispered to the fallen woman. "I love you."

When nothing happened Thoros spared Arya a sad smile. "I'm sorry, truly."

She nodded but it didn't matter. Lying her sword down she kissed Daenerys on the forehead and then the lips. She pretended not to notice the unforgiving chill she felt. "You came for your Kingdom," she said loud enough for all to hear, "and on my life you shall have it."

Straightening up she held not her weapon but Daenerys's the one they'd selected at the beginning of her training. It had blood coloring the steel, proving she'd been an excellent student.

The pain and rage hybrid that was eating her whole altered every aspect of life, it colored her vision, blocked her ears, and had every nerve under her skin jumping in excitement. Her muscles were taut and ready, needing only a target. She needed blood. She was hungry for it. With Cersei subdued the only threats in the room were the Mountain and the two injured guards who although dying weren't actually dead yet. She muttered a prayer to her Many Faced God, these three would just have to do.

Without looking at anyone or anything Arya marched to the dying men and with two quick swings of Dany's sword ended their pain. When she approached the Cleganes, Sandor tried to send her away. "This isn't your fight," he told her as his sword clashed with his brother's.

Too angry to feel or fear anything she stepped into the fight and twirled around a massive sword just in time to save her throat. The duo became a trio and everyone watched as Arya's fury turned the tide of the battle.

When the Hound was wounded with a stab to the leg, and could barely move, it was Arya who kept his brother from ending it, by always staying between them.

Had she been paying attention she would have noticed the minor details. She would have noticed Beric and Thoros praying over the Queen's body even after their first attempt had failed. She would have seen Jorah muttering in his Khaleesi's ear, while Grey Worm held Cersei by the hair, forcing her to watch the bloodshed.

She felt stronger than she ever had, as she swung Daenerys's sword. Her vision felt crisper, her entire body alert. She put her sword between the Mountain and the Hound again, exposing her side to a bone-crushing punch. She dropped the sword at her feet and thought she had enough time to recover but before she could the Mountain drove his sword through his brother's chest and out the other side.

Arya heard the gasp and looked to find Sandor looking at her. To her surprise he looked almost content. He was content but she wasn't. She hadn't been able to save Daenerys, and now she'd failed him too. What good was all the skills she learned, all the lives she took, all the pain she suffered if she couldn't save the ones that mattered?

She didn't remember telling her body to move, but it did anyway. Holding the sword, she swung at the Clegane only to have him block the blow. She swung again and again, but he was always too big, too strong. She thought of Daenerys as she prepared for her own death.

Needing to, she glanced sideways to where Daenerys lay. She needed to see her one more time, before the end. She didn't know what Daenerys believed, but she hoped whatever happened in the next life she'd get to see the Dragon she loved.

It happened as her eyes swept away from the body, she saw Cersei watching with an arrogant grin. That single expression reignited the fire in her and her thirst for blood replaced her willingness to die. Whistling for Nymeria she had the beast attack the Mountain's legs while she wrestled with his top half.

Fueled by hate and all too aware of Daenerys's body lying nearby she fought dirty. She threw a brick from Drogon's entry at the knight and when he attempted to cover she went for his neck. Their dance was not one of water and shadow, but one of rage and destruction. In the end, there were no winners, just a bloody Arya Stark standing over a man whose hand held tightly to the blade lodged in his ear.

Before he was even dead she was going back to Daenerys, or at least she was intending to, until a weak hand grabbed the leg of her pants and tugged. She turned her head and for the second time in her life saw a broken Hound. "Is he dead?" he asked of his brother.

"Yes," she answered with no small amount of hate.

"Good," he said, coughing up blood. After another round of violent coughing he did his best to sit up. "I'm at my end."

She felt tears in her eyes again. Why was everyone she cared about dying? "You recovered last time, you'll recover again!" she said, even though she didn't believe it. Sandor's wounds were mortal and they both knew it.

"Not this time Stark now come here and end it." When she hesitated he pulled a little harder on her clothes. "It's long overdue." He coughed and she bent down to wipe his mouth. "Don't let him be the one who kills me."

It hurt to think of another dead loved one, because somehow that's what the Hound had become, but in the end she knew it was right. Just as her father would put down a dog who had gone rabid, sometimes there was mercy in death.

Blinking passed her unsteady vision she drew the Dothraki dagger and looked to Clegane for confirmation. He nodded as best he could. "Thank you," he said just before the edge touched his neck. Their eyes met as she pulled her arm across. The last thing he said, before he couldn't speak was, "I'm sorry about your Queen."

Keeping hold on the dagger she let his body fall to the side in a bloody heap. With one last look she ensured the Mountain was dead and took another name off her list forever.

She could hear the prayers to the Lord of Light but they didn't matter anymore. The God didn't answer her prayer, so all that was left was death. Only one more life stood between Daenerys and victory and no matter the cost Arya would finish what they started.

With harsh orders to Grey Worm and the Unsullied, they grabbed Cersei and moved her to the throne she so loved. Kneeling in front of the chair of blades they pressed her head down onto the steel and waited for Arya's command.

"You don't deserve to rule," she said calmly, despite her hate. "Daenerys Targaryen is the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and I came here today to ensure the throne is hers. Even in death I will see that she has it."

Cersei laughed as best she could given the circumstances. "Just like your father," she spat. "So motivated by honor and righteous…"

Her blade was moving before she realized it. She brought the sword down hard, missing her neck, but removing her upturned ear entirely. "Mention my father again and I'll take another piece," she vowed.

A hand on her arm stilled her sword from moving again. Ser Jorah looked at her in a mix of understanding and pain. "You must…"

She didn't want to hear what he had to say. "Are you going to tell me that this is wrong?" she asked, daring him with her eyes. "You of all people?"

Cersei sensing an opportunity tried to talk until Grey Worm cut off part of her dress, stuffing it into her mouth as a gag.

"Actually," Jorah answered, "this is the most honorable thing you can do now, but then what?"

Arya didn't know the answer. She didn't have a clue. She was trying to get through the next moment, but beyond that knew nothing.

Only one thing mattered now, Daenerys's legacy, she was the rightful Queen and the Mother of Dragons. She couldn't be honored and remembered with a Usurper sitting on her throne, so Cersei had to die.

To prepare her for the execution she turned Cersei around, for no other reason than so she could whisper in her one remaining ear. "In case you were wondering about your brothers, one serves the true Queen and the other, well he left you." She could feel Cersei's tension as she listened. Motivated by her reaction she kept pushing. "I met him just outside the throne room and we discussed what I intended to do to you. Once he knew, he wished me well and left."

Spitting out her gag she refused to believe it. "Lies," she shouted, "lies! Jamie would never abandon me. You must have kidnapped him again."

She chuckled darkly. "He called me Queen Slayer," Arya told her truthfully before she shoved Cersei's face down into the throne harder than was strictly necessary. "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Arya the Queen Slayer." She laughed at her own joke. "I want you to know something," she said quietly as she looked at the woman she so hated. "I'm not doing this for my father, or my brothers. I'm not even doing this for myself. I'm doing this for her." Using her hair like a handle she forced Cersei to look at Daenerys's body. "It's the harm you caused her that will forfeit your life!"

Fury boiling over she slammed Cersei's head into the throne and turned away from her dead lover. Had she been looking in the proper direction she might have noticed it, the tiny movement in her neck, the pump of a pulse that had stopped. Thoros was still whispering his prayers over her body, if for no other reason than because he didn't have cause to stop.

Arya didn't feel anything as she pulled back the sword. Her own wounds were unimportant she was determined to make things right. "By order of the true Queen Daenerys Targaryen, rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Queen of Meereen, the Breaker of Chains, the Mother of Dragons and the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, I Arya Stark of Winterfell, on my honor sentence Cersei Lannister to death for treason against the throne."

With a deep breath she thought of Daenerys, of her smile, of her soft warm skin and her tender heart. She lined the blade up on Cersei's throat and took one last look at the Lannister. As she raised her sword she heard a gasp but ignored it. The calling voices all sounded far away as she prepared to bring the blade down.

They shouted her name, someone was touching her arm, and even Nymeria was trying to get her attention to no avail. Before the sword could fall one voice broke through the clutter. It was a voice she'd recognize anywhere. One she was certain she'd never again hear. She was afraid to look, afraid that she'd find nothing there, that it was all a perfectly terrible dream. The sword she held shook and the voice kept repeating her name. "Arya," she said. "Come back, I need you here."

When a hand touched her arm, over an open wound Arya felt the unmistakable heat of dragon blood. At last she turned her head and was gifted with the most beautiful sight, Daenerys standing before her, looking weak but alive.

The sword fell to the ground with Arya dropping to her knees right behind it. "How?" she asked, as Daenerys hugged her.

It was Thoros who answered. "I've never seen anything like it," he admitted. "There are no rules for things like this, but this one was strange. I said the prayer plenty and nothing happened, she wouldn't come around, but then when you started talking, I tried again and I felt something change."

Arya looked to Daenerys for confirmation and was rewarded with a small smile. The two shared another, longer hug while Arya fought back tears against Dany's neck. "You're alive."

"I didn't come all this way to leave you now," Daenerys said wobbling until Arya helped her regain her balance. The two shared a kiss that was entirely too brief for both of them. "What did I miss?" she asked, looking about the room. Concern darkened her eyes. "Where are Kovarro, Missandei and Barristan?"

"Kovarro and Missandei are with Tyrion at the camp your Grace," Jorah told her. "They are watching over the girl Arya saved." He gave her a regrettable look. "Barristan didn't make it. They cut him down before we reached the castle."

The news was sombre and each bowed their head. Daenerys vowed to honor Barristan's life and death at the earliest opportunity. The knight died for her, he deserved at least that. "Very well," she said, offering Jorah a kind smile. Now was not the time for grieving, there was still work to be done. Noticing the Hound's body, she turned to Arya. "I'm sorry about your friend."

She looked at the Clegane's bodies. "He got what he wanted. I hope he finds peace."

The Lannister in the room made her presence known then. "Great, your Queen lives, the Stark can cry tears of happiness, wonderful. Now can you just hurry up and get on with it."

Daenerys shared a knowing look with Arya and winked her violet eye. "You think I intend to kill you Lady Lannister?"

"Of course, I'm no fool," she answered, sitting back on her heels now that she was no longer being held to the chair.

Daenerys's fingers were playing with the hole in her shirt, the spot where her injury had been. "Do you wish to die?"

"I'd sooner die than see you sitting on my throne," Cersei admitted, earning a punch from Grey Worm and a hard stare from Jorah.

"Exactly, and after all you've done why should you get what you desire? If I kill you, your suffering will end, but if you live, it will go on for years."

Cersei was enraged. "You're a Horse Lord slut," she shouted. "You could never be Queen."

Again Grey Worm quieted her, but Daenerys had a more permanent idea in mind. "Wolf," she said, addressing Arya.

Arya stepped forward. "Yes your Grace?" This time her use of the formal title was done purely to annoy Cersei. It was successful.

"If we're going to keep the Lannister around, I don't want to have to listen to her. Take her tongue, will you!"

"With pleasure Khaleesi," she said looking for a suitable weapon. In the end, Daenerys handed her the bloody dagger she'd been given as a gift. The two shared a meaningful look before Grey Worm and Jorah held her down, and Arya cut.

R-C

By the time Tyrion arrived, the battle was over. He was surprised to find his sister alive, but pleased when he learned she couldn't speak and was half deaf.

"Lord Tyrion, you are the expert in King's Landing, surely you could find a suitable place for your sister to recover."

Tyrion's grin was almost gleeful as he approached his injured sibling, blood spilling recklessly from her mouth, and one hand pressed tightly against the space where her ear had been. "You know your Grace, I actually know quite a lot about the cages of King's Landing, having spent some time in a few of them myself."

Daenerys gave her Hand a smile. "I trust you'll pick the proper accommodations for our guest."

After Cersei had left Jorah took a knee on one side of the throne, Grey Worm on the other. "The throne is yours Khaleesi."

Looking to Arya for confirmation the Stark nodded her head and dropped to her knee as well. Looking up from between her lashes she watched Daenerys step over bodies and blood and climb the steps to her throne. She took her seat and looked out over the room. It was all hers.

Missandei took her spot next to the Queen and announced her for the first time, even if it was just to a room of corpses and her most trusted friends. "May I present to you the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the Breaker of Chains and the Mother of Dragons, Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name."

Arya stood first, stepping forward then sinking to her knee again. Carefully she took Daenerys's hand and guided it to her lips. "I love you," she whispered in High Valyrian.

Daenerys answered back and smiled to first Arya and then all her friends. Suddenly everything she'd been through felt worth it.

R-C

Epilogue:

It was a month after the sack of King's Landing and Daenerys was already proving to be a most efficient Queen. Damage done during the invasion had been or was being repaired and she'd spent a small fortune improving the slums of Flea Bottom. Her people loved her so much they'd often stand on the street for hours on the off-chance she might pass by. When she did ride by they cheered and called her name while children waved and ran along beside the horses.

Arya slipped away from the Queen's troupe and ducked into an alley on the Street of Steel. That morning Tyrion had brought another raven from Braavos. It had arrived and not a moment too soon.

She went to the location the raven spoke of and met a man with a terrible scar across his face. "Valar Dohaeris" he said in greeting.

"Valar Morghulis," she replied.

He handed her the long package and before she could thank him, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. She thought she'd rejoined the Queen before she could be missed, but one look at Jorah made it clear she'd been seen.

He confronted her as soon as they were behind the walls. "Where did you sneak off to?" he asked. "I know all about your ravens from Braavos, you got one before the invasion and another today, so why don't you tell us what your Masters in Braavos have to say."

Upon hearing his words Daenerys was alarmed but not for the same reason her knight was. "Do they require you to return?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

Arya gave her a reassuring smile. "They do not. I sent word to Braavos weeks ago that I needed something crafted and shipped," she explained. "The first raven told me it was completed and being sent, and the second raven I received this morning told me where I could pick it up."

While Daenerys was only curious, Jorah was more skeptical. "What did they send you? A list of people to kill?"

She laughed bitterly. "I already have one of those," she promised. From the bag on her shoulder she revealed the package she'd received. "This was what I sent for, your Grace."

"What is it?"

Arya handed it over. "Open it, its for you."

Jorah and Daenerys shared a look before Jorah turned away and Daenerys moved to Arya. She could see the Stark's nervousness but didn't understand it. Carefully she peeled away the paper and found a new sword waiting underneath. She removed it from its scabbard and held it as Arya had taught her, marvelling at how light it was and how strong it seemed. "This is for me?"

Arya took her free hand. "The House of Black and White has many smiths but the methods they use have been passed down generation to generation since the time when your ancestors ruled Westeros. This blade is made of the finest Valyrian steel, just as your ancestors would have made it. I commissioned it to commemorate your victory and honor your coronation."

Handing the blade to Missandei Daenerys jumped into Arya's arms and hugged her tightly while she showered her lover's face with wet kisses.

With a laugh Arya turned the Queen in a wide circle. "Now all we need is to give your sword a name."

"It needs a name?" she asked, incredulous. She looked to her translator for clarification but Missandei was just as lost and could only shrug.

"All the best swords have names your Grace," she explained seriously, taking the blade from Missandei and handing it back to the Khaleesi. While they admired it together Arya pointed out the shape, the cool, sharp edge and the three jewels in the hilt, each one the color of a dragon.

R-C

"Did you really kill Walder Frey?" Tyrion asked one night while they were all gathered around a table, more than a little drunk.

Arya who had one arm around Daenerys answered without delay. "I did."

"How'd you do it?"

"I went wearing the face of a serving girl," she explained, refilling first Daenerys's glass, then her own. "I murdered two of his sons and chopped up their bodies, then I baked them into a pie."

There were stunned faces all around, except Daenerys who looked intrigued, Missandei who looked ill, and Tyrion who looked impressed. "Did he eat it?"

She nodded before she took another sip. "He did, and then I opened his throat."

"You fed him his children?" Daenerys asked in disbelief.

Tyrion grinned and jumped up in drunken excitement. "It's the Rat Cook. You got the idea from the Rat Cook."

Arya and the dwarf shared a knowing look, before Daenerys could hold her tongue no longer. "What in the name of the Gods is the Rat Cook?"

"Just a Northern bedtime story your Grace," Tyrion explained. "It teaches little Northern boys and girls the dangers of harming a guest under their roof."

When it was obvious she was still confused Arya set aside her glass and kissed her lover's lips. "I'll explain later," she promised.

Tyrion was still amused by the information. "Remind me killer never to cross you, I happen to like all my body parts attached, and so do a number of lovely ladies I know."

She laughed, along with everyone else. "Of that I have no doubt dwarf."

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It was the first morning after a new moon, Arya woke for the first time since the invasion to find Daenerys not in bed next to her. Pulling on a robe she made her way through the corridors, expecting to see Daenerys or Missandei but likely both around the next corner.

It was after noon before she finally found them, or more accurately they found her. Daenerys appeared next to her with a wide smile. "Go with Missandei you need to get ready."

Arya raised an eyebrow at the Queen. "Ready for what?"

"It's a surprise," she countered, "now go."

With a deep, exasperated breath she hung her head and marched off after Missandei. Daenerys who was fighting the urge to laugh at the adorable pout couldn't stand it. Before she let her Wolf leave she grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close. They shared a kiss, then another before Daenerys finally pushed her away.

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The raven came while she was drying off. Seeing it was from Braavos he brought it to her at once. Wrapping herself in a towel she tried to ignore the Imp's devilish grin as he passed along the rolled up message.

Unsure of what to expect she read it, not trusting her eyes when the words sank in.

Give the Gift to Bolton's Legitimized Bastard Ramsay Snow. Remain in Westeros, more work will be forthcoming.

Sincerely,

No One

Afraid someone might see she tossed the scroll into the fire and watched it burn. Could it be real? It didn't seem possible. It was as if the Many Faced God had seen fit to answer her prayers. Who would do such a thing? Who could afford to hire the Faceless Men to kill Ramsay Bolton?

Dressed in her most formal clothes, with the leather armor Daenerys gave her on over top, she waited next to the throne for the Queen's supposed surprise.

Just before dinner, Missandei left the room and returned with a contingent of men in tow. Arya tensed as she watched. A low whistle brought Nymeria from her game in the yard inside and closer to the Queen.

Three soldiers came in, followed by a man with dark hair and pale skin. Behind him, with her head down, Arya could see only a mess of red hair, hanging down to hide a face. A handmaiden who didn't look a day over twelve followed behind, looking terrified by the three additional soldiers that brought up the rear.

Missandei made the introductions. "Queen Daenerys Targaryen, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, may I introduce to you Ramsay Snow, the Warden of the North and his bride-to-be Sansa Stark."

"It's Bolton actually," he corrected quickly, glaring at Missandei, unaware that Daenerys had insisted she call him Snow.

At mention of her name Sansa cowered backward, while Arya's focused snapped to her sister. She couldn't believe it. This was her surprise? Daenerys had arranged for Ramsay to come South? Was it a coincidence he arrived on the same the Many Faced God called for him?

After some polite conversation Tyrion came into the room and smiled when he saw his former wife. "Lady Stark," he said with an exaggerated bow, "you look as lovely as ever."

Arya wasn't sure about that, Sansa looked horrible. She was too skinny, too pale and looked as though she hadn't slept in weeks.

In spite of her circumstance she curtsied, ever the Lady. "Lord Tyrion, it's a pleasure to see you." Angling her body, she showed the Queen the same respect.
"My Queen, a pleasure to meet you."

Ignoring Ramsay completely Daenerys stepped down from her throne, with Arya and Missandei in tow and reached for Sansa's hand. "Lady Sansa, I am so glad you could join us here. I feel as if I've known you for ages, with all the stories I hear."

Sansa blushed in obvious embarrassment. "Stories, your Grace?"

"Oh yes," she admitted with a smile. "Tyrion and others have spoken very highly of you, and your family."

Ramsay was tired of being overlooked. "Her family are traitors, and were I not so kind I'd leave her to grow old alone."

Sansa smile vanished and she stepped back, earning disapproving growls from Arya, Daenerys, Nymeria and even Tyrion. Holding up her hand to stay Arya from doing something drastic, Daenerys approached the bastard. "I think its time I name a new Warden in the North."

Outraged Ramsay moved toward the Queen until Arya stopped him. "I'm Warden of the North," he shouted rudely.

In Valyrian she called for the Unsullied and within seconds Arya had spears to the throats of all six of Ramsay's men, while Missandei directed Sansa's handmaiden away from the danger.

"What is this? You invite me here to…"

"I invited you here to inform you that your services are no longer required as Warden of the North. Under my reign Lady Sansa will be welcome to stay here as my guest and under my protection until she wishes to return home." Turning to Sansa she offered a smile. "If you wish to stay, that is."

Sansa's smile reminded Arya of their youth. "Of course your Grace. Thank you."

Angry at her betrayal Ramsay pulled back his hand and prepared to hit his betrothed. Standing on the opposite side of Daenerys, Arya was too far away to stop it, so she whistled and called for Nym.

The wolf was on him in an instant, charging through the door and biting his arm until Missandei could move Sansa to safety too.

From where she was watching, Sansa's eyes widened at the sight of a living direwolf.

Satisfied with the outcome, Arya snapped her fingers and called Nymeria by name.

Across the room Sansa's mouth hung open. "Nymeria you said?"

Cautiously Arya moved away from her Queen and inched closer to her sister. "I was going to name her Lady, but my sister took the name for her wolf before I got the chance."

At the obvious lie Sansa's tears started and a strangled sob slipped through her lips. She ran to Arya and the younger woman caught her in her strong, scarred arms. "Shh, it's going to be okay now," she whispered while Sansa cried.

They'd never had an easy relationship, but years apart and countless pains and hardships made it easy to overlook the minor details. After so many years of assuming Arya was dead, Sansa was stunned at where she'd found her, and with whom. For Arya, she was just grateful her sister was safe. She'd been worried for her since learning of the wedding. It still wasn't easy, there were no shortage of problems between them, but for one moment simply being together was enough.

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After Sansa had met and chatted with everyone Daenerys arranged for a feast in the hall. Midway through the meal Sansa looked to the empty seat at her right. "What of Ramsay?" she asked no one and everyone at once.

"You needn't worry about Ramsay," Arya promised seriously, "the Many Faced God has called him home, he will not be bothering you again."

Tyrion laughed, refilling Sansa's wine for her. "Oh killer, that God of yours must love you to grant you such a gift."

Daenerys lifted out of her chair and kissed her love on the lips, surprising Sansa in the process. "I like to think Lord Tyrion that I had as much to do with it as her God."

The kiss fogged her mind temporarily but when Daenerys returned to her seat, and Arya's blood cooled she put the pieces together. "It was you," she said looking accusatorily at the ruler of the kingdoms. "You put the contract on Ramsay."

Looking at the Stark siblings Daenerys was unrepentant. "Best money I ever spent."

This time it was Arya who leaned out of her seat to kiss Daenerys. "Thank you," she whispered against the older woman's lips. "You know, the note from Braavos instructed me to remain here."

Daenerys did her best to look surprised by this information. "Really? Imagine that."

"I was already yours," she confessed. "You didn't need to do all this."

She smiled. "I simply informed the House of Black and White that King's Landing was full of undesirables, so I'd require your services longer than I originally thought."

"Dany," she said in surprise, reaching to take her hand.

"If I'm going to be the ruler of Seven whole Kingdoms, I'm going to need my queen."

Arya sat there, with Sansa on one side, Daenerys on the other and Nymeria curled up on her feet under the table. Life was as perfect as it ever had been.

"As you wish, Daenerys."

The End

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Author's Note: Just a quick thank you to everyone who read, followed or reviewed this story. It was my first submission and I'm glad so many people enjoyed it.

My original intention was to end Chapter Nine when Daenerys was "dead", but that felt a little mean to all the people who have been reading and commenting.

Now that this is over I'm not quite sure what to do next. If there is interest I have a couple of ideas for a sequel if anyone wants to know what happens to these characters next. I also have a few more ideas of completely different AU stories involving these two, or I could cut my losses now and go back to writing original characters? Anyone with an opinion or suggestion is free to send me a message or post a review.

Thanks again to everyone who read.

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