On the morning of her wedding Missandei found Daenerys awake in Arya's bed. Tangled in a mess of limbs she had a clear view of the damage Kenning inflicted. In the days they'd had her back, she'd already begun to regain weight, the bruises had faded slightly and most importantly Arya didn't pull away from her touch anymore. She rarely tensed when Daenerys couldn't resist and kissed her, and she didn't push her away when the Queen needed to be close.

She finished her message to the woman she loved and earmarked the page. Looking at the sleeping woman Daenerys smiled. She really was stunning, even if she did need a haircut. Smooth fingers slipped into that hair and she could only shake her head. "I love you Arya," she whispered, hoping the message reached her in her dream. "Nothing that happens today will change that."

"Have a pleasant night, your Grace?" Missandei teased as they snuck their way through the keep, toward the room where Daenerys was supposed to have spent the night.

Like the woman in love she was, Daenerys immediately gushed to her best friend. "You have no idea. Even with that notebook she still manages to say the most romantic things."

"Romantic?" the translator challenged, testing the word on her tongue. "Are we speaking of the same girl."

With a gentle laugh Daenerys slapped Missandei's upper arm. "We are and you know it. When it's just her and I, it's as if she's a different person. The compliments are there you just need to look a little deeper to find them."

"I believe it," Missandei acknowledged. "I see the change when she's with Amara.

Daenerys was quick to agree. "You see it too then, how cute they are together? Arya isn't nearly as scary as she seems at first."

With a laugh, Missandei pushed her friend into her bedchamber. "Maybe not to you, your Grace, but the rest of us remain terrified. Most of the time when she looks at me I'm certain Arya has decided to kill me and is just waiting for the right time to strike, other times I see her looking around the keep, as if she is searching for a proper place to dispose of my corpse."

R-C

Daenerys stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the three-headed dragon she wore around her neck. The gold was perfect in its craftmanship, the three heads staggering down her throat, while the beast's tail disappeared between her breasts and down the front of her silver dress.

The dress wasn't ugly, in fact she would have liked it, had James not picked it out. It wouldn't have been her first choice, had this been a real wedding, but without feelings to get in the way, she found herself accommodating his whims.

"You look beautiful," Missandei said as she prepared to braid Daenerys's hair.

"I should have dressed as a Khaleesi," she remarked snidely. "He hates that."

Missandei laughed. "Knowing what he hates means you already know the important bits. Most wives must take months or years to learn these things. You're so much further ahead."

She knew she should have laughed, Missandei was trying to put a bright face on a bad situation, but Daenerys felt suddenly serious. "You know Missandei, just once I'd like to get married for love and no other reason."

"You think you'll get married again?" she asked, her delivery betraying her nervousness as her fingers expertly weaved the hair together.

"I hope so, if she'll have me after this."

Always the loyal friend, Missandei was quick to reassure. "She'd be a fool to let you pass."

"I am marrying the man who tortured her."

"Yes, but after today, Tyrion and Amara can come home and things can return to normal."

Normal, she wondered what that would be like.

R-C

Not surprisingly, she woke to the bed half empty. The pillow where Daenerys had rested her head still smelled of her expensive foreign perfume. She'd been all over the Free Cities and could never find a merchant who sold it. Still, Daenerys seemed to have it constant supply.

The night before had been unexpected and pleasant. While they initially fought, Arya in writing and Daenerys with heated words about the wedding, before long Arya reluctantly backed down. She didn't want Daenerys to get married to anyone, certainly not to save her, but she could tell the Queen was determined, and their time together was short. If it was going to be the last night she ever got with her Dragon she wasn't going to waste it arguing over something she couldn't change.

Now she was alone. She flipped back through the pages of the book she used to communicate, smiling as she remembered the conversations.

Her finger rubbed the corner of the page and her eyes followed the route. With a quick turn of the page she recognized Daenerys's handwriting at once, so elegant and powerful, it could belong to no other.

Arya,

I can only imagine what you're going through. I know that if it were you getting married while I watched, I'd likely be on Drogon's back, leading a bloody massacre.

I know you disagree with my decision but that's because you don't realize how important you are to Amara and I. We need you Arya, I need you, and not just to help me raise our daughter, but to be beside me in the years to come.

I may marry Lord Kenning and tolerate him for as long as necessary but my heart remains with you. Please trust me. I know what I'm doing. Amara will be back in time for dinner, consider joining us.

All My Love,

Daenerys

She wasn't quite sure how to feel. On one hand that was a declaration of love if she'd ever seen one, and what more could a woman want from any lover, especially one as incredible as Daenerys. On the other hand, it asked her for trust, and that had never been her strength.

She made a rash decision then. Swinging her legs off the bed she grunted and forced her tired, aching bones to sit. If Daenerys was getting married, then she was going to be there to see it. She wasn't going to hide with the Maester and pretend it wasn't happening. That wasn't her style. No, she'd march straight to the front row and find herself a seat.

Every movement made her feel both helpless and weak. Even a task as simple as filling the bath required multiple rest periods. As she scrubbed away at the near permanent dirt, buried in her skin, she passed over scars, old and new alike. She wondered what Daenerys could possibly see in her, what she could love? Although the assassin thought otherwise, Daenerys called her beautiful. She said it so sincerely, and with so much reverence that it almost made the Northerner a believer.

She was still in the bath when Missandei came in to check on her. Her mouth gaped like a fish out of water and she shrieked before she turned around. "Arya, what are you doing?"

As she tried to laugh, the movement of her muscles burned her throat, but she did her best to ignore it. Using a towel to dry her hands she reached for the notebook that was never too far and answered the advisor's question with one of her own. Standing up she nudged Missandei's shoulder with the corner of the book.

Keeping her dark eyes down she saw the writing and gasped. "Oh, oh of course." She opened it, and with the mute's help found the right page. It said;

Taking a bath. Why aren't you with Daenerys?

She chuckled lightly. "The Queen needed a moment to herself. She asked that I come check on you."

Is she alright?

Thrusting the book to Missandei the other woman read it without taking it from the killer. "She's marrying a man she despises, she thinks the woman she loves will leave the second she's wed and she's terrified for her daughter."

I told her not to. Not for me!

Missandei smiled and offered a hand to help her climb from the tub. "I know you did but Daenerys is stubborn and she loves you. Please don't doubt that."

Completely ignoring the fact that she was naked, dripping and disgusting she wrote a plea in big letters, hoping it would stress the importance of her request.

Need your help!

"What do you require?"

She was immediately writing.

Clothes for a wedding

R-C

The sun was high and bright as Daenerys peeked at the cliffs overlooking the bay. In an attempt to appease his soon-to-be wife, James agreed to her strange request. The ceremony would be close friends and family only and it would take place outside at midday. While this wasn't the traditional way, Daenerys knew most viewed her as foreign already. This only further fueled the myth.

"It's time, your Grace," Missandei told her.

On their way outside Missandei steered her into a small, unused office. "Missandei what…"

"I have something for you," she said in a rushed whisper.

"Missandei this wedding isn't real, you shouldn't have…"

"It's not from me," she said in another flurry of words. From the front of her cream-colored dress, she pulled out a folded page. The messy scrawl took her mind back to the first note she got from Arya, asking what name she'd given their child.

"Arya?" she confirmed as her unsteady hands went to work unfolding the page. It was clearly torn and hastily so from the notebook she'd been using.

"I checked on her as you requested and she asked that I find a time when you were alone to give you a message from her." Missandei smiled at Daenerys's expression. "I didn't think you'd mind."

She hugged her friend, crumpling the paper carelessly against Missandei's shoulder. "I love you Missandei," she said simply. "All you do for me, for Amara, I could never thank you enough."

Looking at her shoes shyly, she was quick to joke. "Love, your Grace? I'm flattered but what would Arya and Grey Worm think?"

Daenerys couldn't resist the chance to laugh for a few precious moments. "If you think Arya terrifies you now, imagine if she thought you were in love with me?" She laughed at the mental image and nearly fell over when she saw the horrified set of Missandei's features.

When the women quieted down, Daenerys turned her attention to the letter.

Daenerys,

Thank you for your note. You look beautiful. Any man or woman would be lucky to call you 'wife'. I know today isn't what you want either. You don't have to do this for me. I have no regrets and I'd never want you or Amara to suffer for me.

Missandei seems certain that you want me to stay, so I will, if you're sure. That is to say, I'll try. I'll stay for as long as I can stand it, until I have to choose between leaving and stabbing your husband in the heart.

You aren't alone in this, I will be here when you need me, but I'll also go if that's what you wish. I won't make this harder on you than it has to be.

A

"You convinced her to stay?" Daenerys said as she clutched the page to her chest.

"I tried," Missandei allowed. "I'm not certain how successful I was, she was mostly concerned about you."

Picking up on another detail, she pivoted toward her friend. "She said I looked beautiful," she remembered. "When did she see me? How?"

Missandei did her best to look innocent, a pose Daenerys recognized well. The advisor was nearly as good at it as Amara was. "There are no doubt dozens of hiding places she could spy you from, your Grace. Our route was rather exposed."

They enjoyed the light moment for as long as they could. "The guests are waiting, your Grace," she finally said.

Folding up Arya's letter and tucking it down the front of her dress, she shook her head. "It's already midday. Can't be late for my own wedding."

R-C

The setting was nice, basic, just as she requested. Tall vases of bright flowers, vases taller than her lined both sides as she began her walk. Chairs were situated in tiers to ensure the guests could see everything. They had a great view overlooking the water, while the sun warmed everything. Daenerys and James would have their backs to the water, face their loved ones, and swear their vows before the High Septon and the Gods.

Only a handful of Dothraki provided perimeter security around the ceremony. For every Dothraki, there were two of Kenning's guards. The rest were situated around the beach, keeping the crowds away at Daenerys's insistence.

She needed only three chairs, for her guests. With Tyrion still being held to ensure Kenning's safe return, and Missandei standing next to her, that left only Ser Jorah in the center, with Arya on one side and Viserys on the other.

She had to admit, all three looked rather impressive. Viserys had been given clothes, fed and cleaned. Bandages covered sections of his face, hiding the damage done to him. With a little effort, she could remember the handsome boy who told her how he'd take her back to Westeros so they could reclaim all that was stolen from them. Jorah had strict instructions not to let Viserys from his sight and like all orders from Daenerys he took this one seriously. Dressed in his formal, plate armor, it is littered with dings and dents in all locations. He looked imposing and dangerous, if marginally old. But Arya was the surprise. Unlike Viserys she had no bandages on her face, leaving her bruises and stitches to the air. She looked rugged, with her scarred, rough hands. The clothes she wore were new, and well made, fitted black pants and a white shirt. The high collar hid the intense marks on her neck and Daenerys supposed that wasn't by accident. The hair she'd been toying with hours earlier had clearly been washed and cut.

When their eyes met, Daenerys could see the pain she desperately tried to hide. She thought of the letter and knew that Arya was doing this for her. She was willing to endure this, just so Daenerys had one more supporter in the crowd. It made her love Arya all the more.

Lord Kenning had far more admirers and ass-kissers. Most of his siblings sat arranged by age, with their spouses and children. In addition, James invited two Lords from the West he was hoping to impress. They all wore the finest garments, the family marked by their sigil in one way or another, on a dresses sleeve, or boldly stated across the front of armor. The groom stood with two brothers at his side. He wore clothes not unlike Arya's, only his didn't appeal to Daenerys nearly as much. She had no desire to see what he hid underneath. The same could not be said, of her reaction to the Stark. His armor was shiny, flawless and clearly had never been worn in actual battle. On his shoulders, he wore a cape of sorts. Had it not been for Tyrion's lessons of Westeros she might not have understood its significance. Truthfully, he might have been an appealing choice, if she wasn't so damn revolted.

"There you are," Kenning said as he approached. With an attempt at humor that didn't seem genuine, he added, "I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind."

"And reject your offer to be King, I'd be foolish indeed," she countered sarcastically.

Unsure of what to say, James took hold of her arm. "Yes, well come. Everyone is waiting."

Tilting her head back Daenerys looked up to the sun. "Is it midday yet?"

Kenning glanced at the sky for a moment and then continued trying to nudge Daenerys toward where the Septon waited. "Close enough."

"No," she said as she resisted. "I need to be married at exactly midday, that's the plan."

James was clearly growing frustrated. "What plan? Have you been drinking?" He pushed her a little harder toward the edge of the cliff. "It'll be midday by the time we get up there, Daenerys."

She arrived at the front and smiled warmly at the holy man. She paused to kiss Missandei on the cheek, and whisper her thanks. For nearly ten minutes she listened to scripture and opinions about the purity of marriage, about the strength of a couple and the faith in the union. She waited until he was finished speaking before she addressed her soon-to-be husband. "Do you think it's midday yet, dear?"

He growled in annoyance. "Yes, Daenerys, by the Gods, it's midday. We can finally get married. Are you happy now?"

She flashed him a wicked smirk. "Yes, I am. I was getting tired of this charade."

"Ch…"

With a Dothraki call for blood, she looked to her warriors. They didn't disappoint, responding as was their nature. Outnumbered two to one by Kenning guards, each Blood Rider protecting the wedding, swung first, killing their targets before anyone realized what was happening.

"Ser Jorah, restrain my brother and ensure he has an unobstructed view. I want him to see this."

As blood wet the ground James stumbled away from his would-be wife. "W… what is this? What are you doing? I still have the Imp, if I don't return my men will kill him."

"You said it's midday, right?" she asked rhetorically. "That means that by now, a friend of mine has freed Tyrion, and they are likely on their way back here as we speak."

"What friend?" he scoffed. "All your savages are here or holding the Keep, and your Unsullied are still marching back from the West. You don't have enough men to mount a rescue."

She smiled as she watched his confidence wane. "True, but when Sansa Stark learned what you did to her sister, she sent Northern troops to help me ensure you were dealt with."

"You can't do this!" he shouted as he looked around for help but finding friends in painfully short supply. The Lords he invited looked too stunned to get involved and the Dothraki had closed in around the Kenning family, ensuring they stayed in place. "I was to be King, that was our bargain. I gave you the Stark girl and you agreed we'd wed. I held up my end. If you don't honor yours, the West will rise up. They will not stand for this. I'm their Lord. If you harm me, not only will Tyrion die, but you'll lose the Westerlands."

"Funny you should mention that," she said as she peeked at the sun again. "By now, the Unsullied have taken Kayce, with the aid of my dragons. There will be no revolt in the West, because there will be no Kennings."

He shook his head, dumbfounded. "They were never returning South. You left them there on purpose. So, you mean to kill us all then?" he asked with a nervous laugh, looking to his nearby family.

She ignored his question. "Life is all about choices James," she said as she walked to where Arya was and took her hand. Together they returned to the spot where she was supposed to be married, the spot where James stood. "You chose to kidnap my daughter, you chose to torture the woman I love, you chose to try and take my throne."

"Love?" he spat. He looked at Arya with nothing short of contempt in his eyes. "She's no more capable of loving you than she is of giving you a child. She's an animal."

Daenerys smiled and thought of Amara, squeezing Arya's hand. "How many times did you hang her?" she asked the Kennings as a group. When the answer wasn't forthcoming she approached a group of huddled women and picked the one who looked the most unnerved. "How many times was it?"

"F…five your Grace?" she answered, her fear making it seem like a question.

Defiant Kenning scoffed, spitting in Arya's direction before he corrected his sister-in-law. "More like ten, give or take, right Stark?" He laughed bitterly and Daenerys was delighted to finally be able to put an end to that sound.

With her brother, the knight who loved her, some nobles, the entire Kenning flock and a man of God all watching Daenerys hiked up her dress, exposing her thigh to Arya and others. Strapped there was the dagger she'd once given Arya. She handed it over and nodded to the collection of siblings. "Take one finger from the hand of every adult," she decided swiftly. She took a moment to enjoy the fear on the faces of the men and women who stood by and did nothing while Arya was tortured, but she saved the final jab for James. Looking to the man who was to be her husband she smiled deviously. "That should get us about ten right, give or take? What do you think dear?" she asked, knowing the count would be far higher.

"You can't do this!" Kenning cried, as his first sibling lost a digit. "You promised us safety. You must honor your word! We are civilized!" His words grew faster and needy with each new voice he heard screaming.

"I promised you wouldn't be harmed inside the Red Keep and I honored that pact. Every time I wanted to reach out and strangle you, or bury a sword into your stomach as you blathered on about this or that, I pictured this moment and how satisfying it would be."

Daenerys could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He glanced in the direction of the Keep and then around the cliff at the Dothraki. She leaned in close and whispered, "I'll keep my word, if you can make it that far. You seem like you might be fast. Who knows, you could do it."

Pale, James looked to her with a mix of fear and hate. "Why, why are you doing this?"

"You kidnapped my daughter!" she reminded him loudly.

"I did as I was told. Take it up with him!" he said pointing to Viserys.

"My brother will pay for his sins, as you will pay for yours Lord Kenning. You may have been following orders, but there are some things a mother can't forgive."

"S…so you're … you're going to kill us all because I took your daughter. That's madness Daenerys, surely you can see that."

"That would be madness," she agreed. "No, I took Kayce from you because of what you did to Amara. What happens next is because of what you did to Arya."

"The Stark?" he asked incredulously. "You can't be serious!"

The screams where from where Arya was working got louder with each victim. "I love her in a way I didn't think I was capable of anymore. She's given me hope again, and a purpose. I could never repay her, but I'm going to try. She's so hard to shop for though, I mean what do you get a woman like that?" Daenerys asked, pointing to her lover, who was busy removing fingers. "Other than a sharp blade and something to wash the blood from her hands, I mean."

"Stop this," he begged, looking over to where his family bled. Half of them were bleeding and the other half were trying to subtly move to the back of the line as their turn approached.

She acted as if she hadn't heard him. "After I saw what you did to Arya I knew I needed to help. I needed to give her something, to remind her I love her, to reassure her I'm there for her. But like I said, she's a tough one to surprise so I decided to get her the one thing I knew she'd want more than anything else. Revenge."

"Daenerys, your Grace, please. This has gone far enough."

She enjoyed his pain more than she should have, but tried not to think about it. "Life is about choices, don't you think?"

Kenning didn't answer, so she pinned him with a hard stare that made it clear silence wasn't acceptable. "I…I suppose."

"I think so too. Now you have a big one to make James. One that is going to alter the history of your family."

With one arm around Kenning's shoulders she led him down to where Arya had massed a small collection of detached fingers. "Help us," one brother pleaded.

"Mercy, your Grace, mercy!"

"Please, let us go, in the name of the Gods."

Missandei approached from behind Daenerys and stood proudly at her side. They whispered together privately until Missandei nodded and fell into her role. "The Queen is generous and has offered you a special ship from her fleet for your journey."

"Journey, what journey?" Kenning asked for group as murmurs of the same question bounced around the bloodied.

Daenerys held out a hand over the water and drew their attention to a small, wobbling vessel. The boat had seen better days, was warped and faded by the sun. The visible side had a large crack along the base. In perfect condition, the boat would hold only half of the gathered Kennings. It was going to be a cramped voyage. "Your days in Westeros have come to an end. If you remain I'll have you hung at sunrise for crimes against the throne, or you can get on that boat and sail away."

Kenning's youngest brother looked at the boat and then the Queen. "Your Grace, you can't mean that. That boat wouldn't be fit for livestock."

"Perhaps not, but it's all your getting." She looked at the boat thoughtfully, "I personally don't think you've got a prayer of crossing the Narrow Sea, but at least out there on the water you've got a chance. Staying here will mean certain death."

"We can negotiate. Surely, we can provide something you want," Claudia offered.

"All I want from you is your decision!" Daenerys snapped, ending the discussion

R-C

When the Kennings and their bloody hands were making their way toward the Free Cities in that pathetic boat, Viserys began clapping as he laughed. "They didn't tell me when they roused me from my cage that there would be entertainment. Daenerys this wedding of yours is wonderful, I approve."

"I wouldn't get too comfortable," she warned. "I haven't forgotten about you."

"Sister, why ruin such a nice day with talk of such things. We're family."

Walking up to Arya she found the Northern woman staring at Kenning with hate. "Ready to finish this?" she asked.

Making use of her notebook she asked the natural question.

What?

"Revenge," Daenerys promised. "Come." Clutching Arya's hand, she pulled her to the cliff where the Septon was still standing. Unsure of what he should do, or say, he remained unmoving and silent. One more witness to the grisly details of Daenerys's latest wedding.

Kenning was facing the water, watching his family and his future float away. "You have another choice to make James," Daenerys told him as she locked her fingers to Arya's.

"What?!" Aren't you done yet? Haven't I been punished enough? You've taken my lands, you've exiled my family. It's enough!"

"It'll never be enough!" she countered, looking to Arya and knowing how true her words were. "Now I promised you a wedding and if you want one, you can have it. The Septon is here, a few guests remain. I gave you my word and so I will marry you, but if you make that choice, I'll have one of my dragons burn that tiny boat to ash, killing your family. You'll be King, just as you devised, but no one will ever know it. Your family will be dead and on the walk back to the keep, I'll ask Arya here to push you off one of the cliffs, making your reign the shortest in the whole of history."

"Or?" he questioned warily.

"Or you can wisely realize we are a poor match, and in return your family gets to continue their voyage uninterrupted."

"And what of me?"

"Lord Kenning, I know you said you didn't know him well, but I think that's about to change. You and Viserys are going to have plenty of time to get to know one another.

R-C

This was not the wedding she was expecting. She'd come in an attempt to show Daenerys she wasn't angry and what she got was Daenerys Targaryen showing her anger and her love. She offered the assassin revenge with a smile. Daenerys let her take their fingers and she savored every cut. Their whimpering and begging only made the work louder, but she never hesitated. Daenerys let her be who she was. Maybe that was No One, maybe it was Arya Stark or maybe it was someone in between. She didn't know anymore and it didn't matter. What she was positive of was just how lucky she was to have Daenerys.

Her throat burned every time she tried to speak. Swallowing felt strange and the tight collar she wore to hide her markings reminded her far too much of the noose. She'd been working hard on the exercises the Maester gave her, but only when she was alone. She didn't want anyone to see, or hear her choking and stammering like a child over the simplest of words. She needed to get her voice back quickly, she was already tired of carrying that fucking book around.

Daenerys was with a Dothraki, discussing Kenning's treatment. He'd chosen to spare his family a fiery death and called off the wedding just as Daenerys wanted. She really was rather ruthless and the assassin couldn't deny her attraction.

No wedding then?

She handed the book to Daenerys, open, one long finger pointing to the message that was for her.

Daenerys smiled warmly and leaned in for a kiss. Her instincts were to back away, or to stay perfectly still, but she fought against them. She knew Daenerys wouldn't hurt her. This wasn't some sell-sword, slipping into her tent. This was Daenerys. Her eyes closed and instead of picturing what happened to her, she thought of the Queen. Daenerys's smile, Daenerys's eyes, her laugh, the gentle way she taught Amara. For some reason the Dragon loved her, and loving her back was the best decision of the Northern woman's life. So, when they met Daenerys's lips were soft and sweet, but hers were rough and demanding. Her tongue forced its way into Daenerys's mouth, while she reached back and lost her hand in the silky hair.

"Wow!" Daenerys exclaimed as she bent down to pick up the book that had been dropped when other things became more important. She flipped the pages one at a time until she found the right one. She smiled as she read the question again. She handed the book to her lover. "Oh, there will be a wedding Arya Stark and hopefully soon, just not today."

She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Did she mean…? That couldn't possibly mean… could it? When she looked to the Queen for aid she saw Daenerys resisting the urge to laugh. She couldn't help but smile along, Daenerys's laugh was priceless, even when it was at the killer's expense.

"We do need to discuss something else," Daenerys said seriously as she took a seat on a large boulder. With her small hand, she patted the spot next to her, and like the obedient Wolf she was, she went. "I think we need to tell Sansa the truth, about you and me, about Amara all of it?"

Why?

Daenerys answered after a sigh. "The House of Black and White already knows the truth. Viserys knows the truth. We'll continue to tell people your brother was the father, but I think Sansa deserves the whole story."

She'll hate me

As she slid the book toward Daenerys she knew it was true. Sansa would hate her once she heard. She had a baby and didn't tell her, that was bad enough but then to take a Stark baby, the only one in their family since Rickon and give it away. To Sansa that would be unforgivable. She could already hear her sister's words in her head. 'Why not bring her to me in Winterfell?'

"What!? That's impossible. Sansa could never hate you. I told you last night that she said to send her love. She'll understand, you just need to tell her why you did it."

She wouldn't be telling Sansa anything. With a tightening of her muscles she made a sound, not quite a grunt and definitely not a word.

Daenerys understood the message and took her hand. "You know what I mean. I'll help you. Sansa will understand, I promise. She loves you and she adores Amara."

Where are they?

Although she'd never admit it, she was anxious to see her sister. She'd even acknowledge that she missed Tyrion a little while he was Kenning's hostage. As for Amara, she was desperate to see her, but terrified of her reaction. She looked like a monster from a child's nightmare, all scars, cuts and bruises. Even with Missandei's help covering the worst of it, she was concerned.

"They should be here any time," Daenerys explained. "Once Sansa's troops had Tyrion they were going back to the camp to get Sansa and Amara and then they'll join us."

R-C

They called for her in two different voices, in two different ways. "Arya!" Sansa gasped as she fought back tears. Her hand covered her mouth and she hunched over like she might fall.

Next to her, holding Sansa's other hand was Amara. She smiled widely and reached out for her birth mother. "Wolf!"

She looked to Daenerys for instruction, feeling adrift in her own body. "Go to them," she said. "They love you, as I do."

She loved her sister, truly she did, but she went to Amara first. The little girl released Sansa's hand when she saw the assassin's coming. She ran and tangled herself around her legs. The pain she felt was real, but well worth it.

Daenerys rushed to where they stood. "Amara, remember what Sansa told you, you need to be gentle, Arya's hurt."

Amara looked at the injured woman with big, sad eyes. "Hurt? I hurt? Sorry!"

She wanted to talk, she even tried, she could feel the vibrations in her throat, but nothing came out. She was forced to just shake her head and hope her message was understood. Thankfully Daenerys came to her rescue. "Sweetie, Arya hurt her neck, so she can't talk right now. She needs to write everything she wants to say in this book." Daenerys showed her daughter the book they'd taken from the Maester.

Once she had the book back she found a fresh page and began writing a message to Amara. Unlike her others, this one was longer than a handful of words. When she was finished she handed the book to Daenerys.

"What's it say?" Amara wondered as she bounced up and down in excitement.

"It says, 'Amara, it's so good to see you. I missed you so much. Did you have a good time with Sansa?'"

"I good," Amara announced as she took the book from Daenerys and passed it along. The message was clear – write more. "I miss you. Sansa's fun."

Hearing Sansa's name, she looked away from Amara and found her sister. She was standing a few feet away, hands at her sides, just watching. It reminded her of their mother, who used to stand on the balcony at Winterfell and do nothing but watch the children playing below. She couldn't help but wonder what Sansa was seeing.

Making sure she had her book with her, she walked in Sansa's direction. Like Amara she didn't wait. She ran and threw her arms around her. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she said as she hugged her lost sister. "I know you're hurt." As she stepped back she wiped a tear from under her eye. She took note of each of the new marks, the cuts, the scrapes, the burn. She'd seen them from afar, but the assassin knew up close was something else entirely. "You're alright? He didn't hurt you too badly?"

The concern was sweet, if not unnecessary. Like with Amara she found a new page for her discussion with Sansa.

I'm fine. Kenning is in the dungeon. Thank you for helping Daenerys, for helping Amara. I missed you. How are things in Winterfell?

After Sansa read the note she chuckled. "I haven't seen you in years and that's what you ask me!? How are things in Winterfell?" She scoffed. "Things at home are fine, which you'd know if you ever visited.

She knew Sansa had a point. With the speed of a water dancer she snatched the book out of her sister's hands and began writing frantically. She was aware of Daenerys's presence but held the book out anyway.

I'm sorry I didn't visit, I'm not a very good sister. I'll be better now. I'm not going back, I can't, so I'm going to stay here. I'll come back every year, I'll bring Daenerys and Amara if you want. Or we can meet somewhere else, anywhere else.

Sansa's frown evaporated as she read the words. She looked to her sister and then the Queen. "You're staying here?"

She knew then that Daenerys was right. Sansa deserved to know the truth. She had family in this world, more family than just her and she didn't know it. That wasn't fair. A quick glance at Daenerys and she knew her lover agreed. She was using her eyes to make her feelings perfectly clear.

I'll be staying with Daenerys and Amara. Wherever they go.

After giving Sansa the book she took hold of Daenerys's hand, a wordless message about how serious she was. When she finished with the book Sansa dropped it carelessly in the dirt. She looked to Amara and found her playing with a Dothraki, chasing after the bare-chested warrior with her wooden sword. Taking swings at him.

"She takes after her mother," Daenerys said as she watched what Sansa did.

Startled by the Queen's closeness Sansa leaned away. "Y… you learned the sword too, your Grace?"

"I'm learning now, I meant Amara's other mother." Squeezing their joined hands, she lifted them up to draw Sansa's attention to them.

She wanted to say something, anything. She tried and a weak grunt was all she managed.

"Her mother…" Sansa gasped.

"I told you that when all this was finished, I'd give you answers, about your sister and about Amara. That time is now."

For twenty minutes, the three of them stood, whispering together. Daenerys spoke, telling her how Amara came into her life and Sansa listened as though every word were vital. She did her part, adding to what Daenerys didn't know, by writing messages in her book and passing them around.

"She looked so familiar," Sansa confessed as she looked at her niece with fresh eyes. "That first time I came to King's Landing, when I met her, she reminded me so much of you."

"She reminds me of Arya everyday," the Queen said leaning over for a kiss. The assassin obliged and lost in the sensations forgot her sister was watching.

With an awkward cough Sansa cleared her throat. "Well, I was not expecting that."

"Sansa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out like that. I just got caught in the…"

She stopped speaking when her lover handed her the book again. She read the passage out loud.

I love Daenerys and I love Amara. I don't know how I got so lucky. Starks don't want things, not anymore, if we try we'll just end up disappointed. I was lost for so long and then I had Amara and I had something important to do. I had to give her a good life. Nothing mattered more. I left her with Daenerys and never thought I'd come back, but now I'm here and I don't ever want to leave. I'll stay for as long as she'll let me. Amara needs me, as I need her, and she'll need you too, just like I do.

"I have a niece. Gods, I have a niece. More family."

Sansa's fragmented thoughts gave Daenerys time to lift up and close her teeth around the lobe of her lover's ear. She tensed for a moment, feeling the heat of Daenerys's mouth on her skin. When she spoke it vibrated through her, straight to her core. "Forever," she said. "You're mine forever."

Politely excusing herself Daenerys went to check on Tyrion, leaving the sisters alone. Unexpectedly Sansa began laughing almost immediately. "You and the Queen," she said between gasps for air. "And everyone thought I'd be the one married to a royal."

Unable to argue with that, she put her arm across Sansa's shoulders and laughed with her, or tried to at least. She was pleased when a small amount of sound was actually produced.

R-C

Daenerys was with Tyrion, who in addition to enjoying his favorite wine was talking non-stop about Sansa Stark. "She led the men who rescued me. Did you know that? Did you know she was going to lead them? It was incredible. One moment I'm surrounded by three heavily armed, extremely unfriendly men and the next, Sansa's offering them their lives in exchange for laying down their weapons. They refused and fought to the last of course, but she offered. It was wonderful."

"Now that she knows the truth about Amara, I was thinking of asking her to stay in King's Landing for a time. The North is stable and Sansa assures me its in capable hands. Maybe she can be of help to you in the Westerlands when you settle things for me there."

Tyrion stopped drinking, a sign she had his full attention. "Your Grace?"

"With the Kennings removed, I'll need a new Warden in the West. The Lord was right, there will be chaos. A lot of people will lay claim, and they'll be fights to settle them. I don't want that. You're a Lannister, the people will listen to you. You will have command of the Unsullied. They'll keep the peace until you can find me a suitable warden."

"A suitable warden?"

"Tyrion Lannister, you're the Hand of the Queen. I will not waste your skills in the West, when you belong here. You'll remain in Kayce only long enough to quell any thoughts of rebellion and install a new house to power. Once that is done you're to return here, where you will definitely be needed."

He looked uncertain, his shrewd eyes bouncing from one item to the next before moving on. "Is that wise? What about my duties here?"

"Work quickly," she urged him with a smile. "With Sansa's help you can surely pick a new warden in a few weeks. Think of it as a vacation"

"Your Grace, I'm needed here." After the words were out, he paled a bit. "Aren't I?"

She shook her head as she chuckled. "You are needed, which is why I'll send ravens West everyday to seek your council, likely more than one."

He finally returned to his wine. "If this is what you think is best." His eyes moved to Sansa and Daenerys's followed. "I'll just have to endure."

"Khaleesi," Jorah said as he appeared behind them.

Daenerys turned. "Is there trouble with the prisoners?" she asked, fearing what would happen if Kenning and Viserys were free.

"They are in the dungeons," he assured her and she instantly relaxed. Her entire body shook with relief. "There is a man at the perimeter. He wishes to meet the Dragon Queen."

She laid a hand on Tyrion's shoulder. "Don't unpack your things just yet," she teased. "Go see Sansa, I bet she's thirsty too."

"Interesting wedding," Jorah commented as they walked together. "Were you ever planning to marry him?"

"I was," Daenerys admitted. "Until I saw and heard about what he'd done to Arya, what he allowed others to do. I knew then that that man could never be King."

"Why not kill him in the castle? Why the show?" Jorah asked with a shake of his head.

"Fewer witnesses. After today only a handful of people alive will know what happened here, but if I'd murdered the Kennings in the Red Keep, word would cross the Realm as fast as ravens could fly. Besides, I gave him my word. I said no harm would come to him in the keep, and none did. That's why the wedding was out here. I needed his whole family, so I made sure they were invited."

"You should have told me. It's my job to protect you and that's rather difficult when you don't tell me what you're planning."

"Your right," she agreed. She kissed his cheek and quickly backed away. She didn't want to give him any reason to get the wrong idea.

Just as Jorah said the Dothraki were holding an elderly man at the border to the would-be wedding. She waved him through. He walked slow, with the aid of a stick. She waited until he reached her, then she fell in step beside him, leading him toward the prepared food that would likely be going to waste.

"It's an honor to meet you, your Grace. I'm very thankful, for all you've done. So thankful that I'm almost sorry."

Daenerys didn't understand. She stopped moving. "Sorry for what?"

Behind her she heard the loud crack as a branch snapped off a tree. She looked back and saw Arya frantically waving her arms. It was faint, halted and flawed, her throat obviously raw from disuse, but still Daenerys heard it, her name. It was called out in a voice she thought she'd never hear again. It may have sounded ragged to others, but to Daenerys it was music.

R-C

She could feel him there. His presence hung over what should have been a happy occasion like a poison cloud. She studied each guest, every guard, every passer-by. She was on edge, just waiting for someone to remove their face and reveal the truth.

She noticed it too late. Jorah leading Daenerys across the grounds, and then Daenerys walking back, past the spot where she'd gathered Kenning fingers and toward the tent that held the food, an old man at her side. She attempted to scream but failed. Frustrated she looked around for something that would draw attention. With nothing more than a rock to work with she jumped up and hung from a damaged branch. Using all her weight she swung back and forth. Finally, it began to give and she worked even faster. When it finally broke she fell to the ground hard and it reminded her of all the times she'd been hung. The memories raced in her mind. She couldn't think about that now. Daenerys was in trouble.

As they got closer to the tent, she knew they were getting closer to the killing. She couldn't let that happen. Opening her mouth wide, she filled her lungs and said a prayer to the Old Gods. "Daenerys," she yelled.

Proud of herself, she didn't know if she'd been loud enough until she saw Daenerys jump away from the older man. Jorah, like a good knight, put himself between them. She couldn't let him fight for her. This was her battle.

Shrugging off his robe, Jaqen revealed the clothes and weapons underneath. While everyone waited to see his next move, he changed his face back to the one she met years before. "Girl, it's time."

She didn't hesitate, leaving her book on the rocks she removed the bloody dagger from its sheath. "Arya don't!" Daenerys cried.

"Arya!" Sansa yelled from further away.

It was hard to ignore them, especially when they worked together like that, but she had to. This needed to end. She stopped at Daenerys's side and gave her a quick kiss. That yell of hers had brought nothing but pain in her throat, but she tried again anyway. "L…lo…lo…"

Daenerys put a hand on her cheek and smiled. "I love you too. You don't need to do this. The guards…"

She shook her head.

"I was nice to a girl," he said as he drew his sword. "I could have killed you hours ago, but I did not. I let you live, kiss your woman, see your sister, hug your daughter." He stepped forward and pressed his sword into the dirt, burying the first two inches. "Come, kneel before me and I shall make it quick and painless. Also, I swear on my honor that I will not harm anyone here today, not ever."

She hated to admit it, but that was a tempting offer. She was marked for death. The Many Faced God would eventually claim her, as was his right. If it wasn't Jaqen it would be someone. They would keep coming and innocent people, people she loved could be hurt. She didn't want that. That was her worst fear.

The dagger she'd been holding ready, lowered. She took a step forward and then another. "Damn it Arya Stark, don't you dare!" Daenerys shouted from the background. "Fight! He kidnapped our daughter, damn it, kill him!"

Jaqen laughed as her dagger came up again. "You think you can beat me, with that? A girl has forgotten herself. You're in no shape to fight." He held out a hand and gestured to the watchers. "Don't make them see this. I will make it quick."

She knew he was right, even as she attacked. From the time she took her first swing at his face, she knew she couldn't win and she knew she had to win. If she didn't everyone she loved would be vulnerable to the House of Black and White, and to Jaqen. She knew what he was capable of and she wanted him away from her family.

They danced together, as they had so many other times. This wasn't training though. This was real. He was trying to kill her, and she him. It reminded her of their only other real fight. In the heart of the Temple she delivered the face of the assassin he sent to kill her. He claimed she was truly No One and she attacked him. They fought for over an hour, until she ran out of energy. Her fury scarred him, on his shoulder and under his arm. He in return gave her four more scars of her own.

That night she didn't win, but she was fighting only for herself. This time there was more at sake. Now there was Daenerys, Amara and Sansa. Even injured she hoped that difference would be enough.

Her legs were too weak. She couldn't keep up. The dagger was a short, quick weapon meant for sudden strikes and rapid escapes. She couldn't escape on legs that could barely support her. She thought of borrowing Jorah's sword, but knew it would be fruitless. Her arms were as weak as her legs and lifting such a thing, let alone swinging it with precision was beyond her capabilities.

Each time he struck her, she heard Daenerys gasp. Some wanted to interfere but none would. The Dothraki knew the sanctity of a fight. It wouldn't be over until one of them was dead. She knew it was only a matter of time. It would be her.

Ducking under a strike that would have removed her head, she slipped past him, cutting him across the stomach as she went. She almost got away, but he took a wild, angry swing with his sword and managed to clip her in the back of the leg.

As she fell, every muscle in her body begged her to stop. She tried to struggle, to work her way back to her feet, but the shadow looming over her would make that unlikely. Her eyes closed and she surrendered to it. Death. Valar Morghulis. She'd managed to keep it at bay for years but now it caught her. She wasn't ready. Thanks to Amara and Daenerys, she didn't think she ever would be, but she was okay.

"Is a girl ready then?" he asked, almost kindly.

She opened her eyes and saw not only Jaqen and his sword, but behind him, the shape of a dragon drew closer. One of Daenerys's children was coming home. The assassin smiled then, knowing that the dragon would keep them all safe after she was gone.

When he raised his sword, she waited for it. Before he could thrust it, Daenerys was there, standing beside her beaten lover. "Do you know who I am? I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and I demand you stop this at once. This woman is under my protection."

"The Many Faced God names her. He answers to no one, not Kings or Queens."

Daenerys's voice became more desperate. "What do you want? Name your price? I can give you anything you desire."

Unmoved Jaqen looked at his prey. "I only want to serve my God and He requires her death."

"You can't have her," Daenerys screamed, frantic now. "She doesn't belong to you anymore. She doesn't belong to your God. She's mine!"

Touched as she was by the gesture she knew she had to stop this before one of them did something that couldn't be forgiven. She put a bloody hand on Daenerys's bare arm, smearing red across the pale skin. "G..g.." she stuttered. Words failing, she waved dramatically, urging her to move.

"She wants you to go and you should listen. You don't need to watch, but I promise she will feel little pain."

Behind his back Jaqen had no idea a dragon had arrived. She could see now it was Rhaegal, the one she'd managed to fly all the way to Braavos and back. The one who saved her in the Temple. She wondered if he could save her again now. It wasn't much of a plan. If she ordered Jaqen burned, the flames would devour him and her alike, since they were so close. Daenerys would be safe, her Dragon blood would protect her. Daenerys, Amara and Sansa would be safe for the immediate future at least. She could die with that. That would be a good end.

"Dr… Dr… " she tried weakly. Her throat burned but she suspected it was little compared to the fire that awaited her if she could only speak.

"What was that girl? Something to say?" he jested.

Daenerys knelt down beside her. Glaring up at Jaqen, looking completely unafraid the assassin knew she was in a love deeper than she ever thought possible. "She's trying. Give her the dignity of a final word at least."

"If she makes it quick."

"What baby?" Daenerys whispered. "What are you trying to say? Do you want me to get your book?" She shook her head quickly. "Do you want me to call the guards? They call kill him for you."

Standing only a foot away the killer scoffed at the notion he could be defeated. Again, she shook her head. After a deep breath, she made another attempt. "Drac… Draca…"

She knew the moment Daenerys understood. Light flickered in her eyes and she followed the killer's gaze to the air where Rhaegal waited. "Do you know the Valyrian word for dragon-fire Jaqen?"

Unamused by the question he raised his sword until it was in line with his victim's throat. "Of course, I do."

"Me too," Daenerys said with a smirk. "Dracarys!"

As was becoming common now, she waited for her death. This time she expected to feel the fire and pain she delivered to so many others, at Dreadfort, the barracks in Kayce. She deserved this, she knew.

When Jaqen screamed she knew her turn was next. She could feel the heat and although she recoiled away from it, there was no escape.

At the last moment Daenerys moved between the assassins and laid herself over her lover's battered body. She straddled the folded legs, pressing herself down on the Northern woman entirely, covering as much of her as she could. Daenerys protected the important parts, her face, her head, and her chest, but she wasn't big enough to stop it all. The flames nipped at her boots, and burned her legs. Her right arm got a lick when it was left partially exposed. Her cries of pain were muffled by Daenerys's chest and she squirmed under her as the flames bit. "Shh, I got you. I got you," she repeated.

R-C

Back in the keep the celebration that was supposed to be for the wedding, was now being held to honor their success. Daenerys felt horrible about Arya's injuries. She was cut several times during her fight with Jaqen, and she made it worse by burning her. Each time she tried to apologize Arya would shake her head and smile before she walked away. It was really rather annoying.

Now, Amara was being passed between Sansa and Arya, laughing the whole time as she was fed from one plate or another. Nymeria who had aided the Northern troops in protecting Amara was at her rightful post, asleep at the Princess's feet. The only one missing was Grey Worm, he was leading the Unsullied and now ruling Kayce until an acceptable leader could be located.

Looking to Arya she knew how hard it was to be away from the person, or people you love the most. After all Missandei had done, she didn't want that for her friend. "Do you miss him?" she asked as Missandei kept her eyes on Amara.

"Who, your Grace?"

"Don't be daft, you know I mean Grey Worm. Do you miss him when he isn't here?"

"Of course, but he sent word. He and the Unsullied are holding Kayce. All is well."

"I'm glad." She paused and then got straight to the point. "You should go then."

"Go?"

"I'm sending Tyrion to Kayce to find a warden. I believe he intends to ask Lady Stark to join him. You should go along." Missandei's smile assured her she'd made a wise decision. "Grey Worm is likely lonely without your company," she teased.

"Thank you, your Grace. I won't stay gone for long, you have my word, just a quick visit and then I'll be back. I'm sure you'll have need of me."

She kissed her friend's cheek. "There will always be more work Missandei, more trouble, more problems to solve, criminals, nobles, warriors or thieves, it never ends. We need to make time to be with the people we love. That's what's important."

As the words left her lips she looked to Arya and saw Amara propped up on her shoulders, trying to catch bits of food her mother was throwing her. Nearby Tyrion had pulled Sansa away, and as they talked together it didn't escape Daenerys's notice that they were holding hands as well.

"You should take your own advice, my Queen," Missandei said as she looked suggestively toward Arya.

Daenerys smiled and took the first step toward her waiting family. "You're right. That's exactly what I intend to do."

R-C

It was three days later before Daenerys came down from her blissful high and remembered about Viserys and Kenning in the dungeon. Viserys was near death already. He'd taken a beating from the Dothraki after the wedding and could barely stand. Daenerys ordered him taken to the Dragon courtyard and left there. Kenning she had brought a balcony that overlooked the yard. They could clearly see Viserys's body lying unmoving on the grass while the dragons circled overhead.

Arya stood at her side, where Daenerys wanted her to remain forever. "W…why have you brought me here? Your Grace, please, have mercy. I'll join my family across the sea, you'll never hear my name nor see my face again," he begged. "Just let me go."

Feeling confident, Daenerys was in the mood for a little sport. "What do you think love? Should we spare this pitiful man?"

Both Daenerys and James looked to Arya but the woman remained stoic. "Oh, that's right, Arya can't answer me, because you hung her over and over again." She grabbed one of the links binding his wrists together and pulled until he was on his knees before her. "I think Arya deserves justice."

"Your Grace, please. She lives. It wouldn't be justice to kill me. I didn't kill her."

Grabbing the front of his soiled shirt she pulled him to his feet. "That is a matter you and I could debate for centuries I'm sure. Don't worry, Lord Kenning," she said as she dusted off some of the dirt from his clothes. "I won't be the one deciding your fate. That'll be up to Drogon and the others."

Wild eyes searched the room. "W…who's Drogon."

Daenerys stepped back and Arya moved forward. Without delay she pushed Kenning backward off the balcony and down to the courtyard. His body hit with a thud, just seconds before all three dragons came to land.

"And that takes care of that."

Inside the room, Amara and Missandei were playing. Missandei had been tasked with keeping Amara busy. It was a job she was happy to take since she said she'd miss the girl terribly when she left for the West in the morning.

Arya went straight for the book that was her only method of communication.

We still need to be careful. The House of Black and White will send others.

We'll deal with them together," she said as she set the book down, "like a family."

After a quick kiss Amara appeared next to them, poking at Arya with the tip of her wooden sword. "More,"

"Amara!" Daenerys reprimanded.

"More please," she said, giving Arya another helpful nudge.

"Someone wants more lessons, I think," Missandei explained. "She was asking me earlier."

She laughed at the idea of Missandei teaching Amara to swing a sword. "I would have enjoyed seeing that."

Missandei smiled. "I told her she needed to wait until her mothers returned."

Daenerys was going to bend down, but Arya picked Amara up instead. "Sweetie, Arya can't talk right now remember? She can't teach you, but I bet if you're good she will when she gets her voice back."

Handing Amara off to Daenerys, Arya picked up the book and began writing on a new page. Her usually uneven and messy letters were clear and perfectly formed this time. The message was simple and Daenerys read it, smiled and passed it along to their girl.

"Your mama says, 'Stick'em with the pointy end.'

R-C

One Year Later:

R-C

Daenerys smiled as she fluttered around the room, unable to keep still. Outside the thick window she watched snow fall and it seemed only fitting. She was in the North after all.

Being in Winterfell, she learned a lot. Arya took her down to the crypt and spoke about each member of her family resting there. Tyrion was nervous about the trip, but the Queen in the North assured his safety. Likely because she wanted him to share her bed. They'd been together since she sent them to settle the West and even when separated by miles, they sent letters almost every day. It really was sweet. Although they spoke of a wedding, neither seemed particularly eager one way or the other.

Nearly everyone she cared about was in one place. She left only Jorah behind in King's Landing and he willingly obeyed. She knew as surely as he did, that he didn't want to be present for this. She didn't mind his absence as much as she should have.

"Are you nervous this time?" Missandei asked as she followed after the Queen attempting to make adjustments to her dress.

The dress she'd chosen matched the snow. The hem nearly dragged on the floor, but the colors were crisp and bright. From her right shoulder to her left hip was a fire red sash, that added color. Daenerys loved it from the first moment she saw it, so Arya insist she have it. She wore a three-headed dragon necklace, and a matching bracelet to complete the outfit.

"Is it obvious?"

"Only a little," Missandei replied, too quickly for Daenerys's liking. "Sit," she suggested, moving a chair in front of the mirror.

"It's nice here. I can see why Arya likes it."

"It's cold," Missandei complained.

Through the mirror she gave her friend a hard stare. Missandei kept working to style her hair, even as she shrugged. "It has a certain beauty, even if you need three layers of clothes just to go outside and see it."

R-C

They were being married under the Weirwood tree. Arya said the place was special to her, and to her father so Daenerys agreed immediately when it was suggested they might wed there.

Sansa was a great host, spoiling her friends from King's Landing and embarrassing her sister with stories from their childhood. Daenerys hung on every word and Amara laughed along, even when she didn't understand.

She was glad her hands were empty when she took it all in, if she'd been carrying anything she would have dropped it. Amara was there, happily bouncing on her toes as she waited. "Mama, you here finally!"

She bent down and kissed the tip of her daughter's nose. Amara was wearing a reverse of her mother's dress. Hers was red, with a white sash and she looked beautiful and very grown up. "You look gorgeous baby. Do you like your dress?"

"Uh-huh, Sansa say I look like a princess."

"You are a princess. Ready to go? Arya's waiting for us."

On her way to the tree she almost fell no fewer than five times. She heard Amara and Missandei giggling together about her misfortune but she didn't mind. How could she be expected to focus on the ground, when she had Arya waiting in front of her.

The woman who would be her Queen stood there, waiting patiently. She smiled brightly and Daenerys even thought she saw a wink the second time she almost tripped. Arya looked exquisite, wearing a simple pair of black pants and a red shirt that matched Daenerys's sash. She looked dashing and Daenerys was already considering ways to sneak away with her wife.

R-C

Why hadn't she done this sooner. She should have. If she'd known Daenerys would look like that, she would have. She was speechless and that rarely happened since she got her voice back. It had taken months and too many meetings with the Maester but she could now speak freely. It still hurt sometimes, and the scars remain as a permanent reminder, but she could tell Daenerys and Amara she loved them and that was plenty.

Sansa stood behind her, looking content and smug, like she had a secret. "Ready for this little sister?"

She peeled her eyes off Daenerys, long enough to catch Sansa's eye. "So fucking ready."

When Amara reached her, she bent down and kissed the girl. "You look so pretty sweetheart. Go see your Aunt Sansa now."

Happy to spend any time with Sansa that she could, Amara went gladly.

"Arya Stark," her favorite voice said.

Grey eyes met violet and held them. "Your Grace, you look stunning."

With a tilt of her head and the curl of her lips she took Arya's offered arm. "You look rather dashing yourself. Shall we get married?"

Arya's eyes flashed to their daughter, who was watching closely with a huge grin. She couldn't believe this was her life. Daenerys, Amara, even Sansa. She never dreamed any of this would be possible for her. She'd been fighting wars for as long as she could remember. From the day her father died, until the day Jaqen died, there was always more names on her list, more people to kill, and more people who wanted her to kill. Now for the first time she was attempting to live in peace. It was awkward and slightly boring but she'd taken a liking to it. When trouble came, she'd be ready, but in the meantime, she was content being a mother, a wife and a Queen.

She looked at Daenerys and tried to memorize every detail. "Yes, let's."

R-C

Author's Note: That's it ladies and gentleman. At least for the time being. First things first, I apologize for the incredibly long chapter, but it made more sense to just finish it all at once.

This originally started in my head as one-shot of Arya giving up her baby to Daenerys, but then I kept writing and once I posted it the feedback was so encouraging. Thank you for that.

I'm not sure if a sequel is going to happen, but I will admit, I'm considering it. Amara is too much fun to write, and I can't help but wonder what would happen when she's a teenager and really old enough to cause trouble. So that might get written eventually, but no promises.

Another Arya/Daenerys story is already stuck in my head, so its very possible that I could start that soon. Health permitting.

If you read all this, thank you. I appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed it.

Russell Craig.