Dragons and Wolves

Chapter 2
(Slight Storm of Swords and Feast for Crows spoilers, I’ll try not to make them obvious)

“My lady what would you like us to do about the Starks of the North?” Grey Worm was kneeling in front of his queen. She never regretted buying him and the rest of the Unsullied in Astapor, they were unwaveringly loyal to her. And obedient, though she loved her Dothraki kin, they were just as stubborn as she.

Daenerys twitched in her iron throne, it was an oddly itchy chair. She wondered if the kings before her had also been this uncomfortable or if it was just uncomfortable for a woman. She considered the ramifications of having it melted and formed into a new chair, one less gaudy. Would her people hate her for it? Or would it be a symbol of a new era, one free of mad kings like her father and the Baratheon boy?

Oh right, Grey Worm and the rest of her council were staring at her, “Hmm for now we leave them, their heir is only 12 and their eldest and smartest has no claim to the Stark name. For now let’s send a unit of Unsullied warriors to march through their lands. Not quite subtle but not quite a declaration of war either.”

“But why make peace with the rest of the kingdom but intimidate the north?” Jorah asked.

“I have no quarrel with the North but they’ve been known to be stubborn people, I don’t want to antagonize them to the point they rebel but I won’t stand idly by while they call me the mad queen or the dragon lady. I’ve done nothing but good for King’s Landing and the places nearby, my influence will reach them soon enough and they’ll realize I’m the true ruler.”

“You’ve been long out of Westeros Jorah,” quipped Arstan. “You missed Rob Stark’s part in the War of Five Kings. These northerners will do anything for their independence. Even if it is against their better benefit.”

“I head what happened to Rob Stark.” Daenerys shook her head, from what she had heard he had been a kind and just man close to her age. The kind she would have tried to form an alliance marriage with.

“They even skinned his wolf too, the Freys made a cloak out of its pelt and gave it to Roose Bolton when he became the King of the North.” Arstan’s voice quivered, making Dany notice how old he was getting. He wasn’t young when he had entered her service but now he was near hobbled. She had made him Captain of the City Guard, maybe she’d give him a more relaxed job.

“I heard Arya Stark slit him and his family’s throats and took the pelt back and buried it in the Stark tomb with the rest of them when they retook Winterfell.” Jorah tilted his head and side glanced at Dany. “For the Snow boy claiming that the Night’s Watch has no allegiance to any monarchy, he was quick to use them to reconquer Winterfell from Bolton’s men and those pirates.”

“Well if they try to cause any trouble, they may just meet the same fate as Roose Bolton and—“ Dany saw movement out of the corner of her eye, the crippled man Bran wheeling away. She wondered what he had heard.

A month later

It was remarkably easy for Arya to travel the King’s Road compared to last time, she knew it was her male form to thank. As a young girl she had been prey for every monster on the King’s Road, now she was the monster. After training all those years in Braavos, she was exceedingly dangerous. She knew Jon was the only one who took her seriously, even Sansa who used to look at her like she was a wild animal just looked at her like she was sad.

Who cared if she was sad? At least she was dangerous. She patted her chest, her poisoned tailors pins snug in their pocket. It was called Death’s Nudge, slow to kill but fatal one hundred percent of the time. She snickered, and what a perfect disguise she had.

Who’d suspect a tailor? Any queen would fancy a new dress, get fit for it, no matter how good a tailor was the customer was always stuck with a pin or two. She would know, being highborn herself. And all Death’s Nudge needed was the tiniest prick.

Arya walked through the gates of King’s Landing, just as overcrowded as before. But oddly it didn’t smell as badly as before. It looked cleaner and so did it’s citizens. Arya walked past the pot shops, instead of selling road kill, rats and horsemeat they were selling vegetables and chickens. She turned her eyes to the Red Keep, the castle the Queen’s ancestors had built and where Arya’s family had been destroyed.

She wished it was Queen Cersei she’d come to assassinate, or Joffrey. She had nearly died of laughter when Sansa had told her the story of Joffrey’s death, poison. He had deserved a stab in the belly, bleeding out for hours until finally his heart struggled to pump blood and he’d start to suffocate until his heart gave out.

The Red Keep was beautiful without the heads on pikes decorating it, a decorative style Joffrey and his father had both been fond of. Instead the only thing marring the castle was a giant green dragon lounging languidly in the sun like a fat cat. Its scales were so bright they reflected like a massive emerald in the noon sky.

Arya couldn’t bear to look when she passed where her father had been beheaded. And soon
she passed into the sparkling bronze gates of the Red Keep. Dozens of citizens were pouring into the castle to try and get a look at the Dragon Queen. But three women dressed in Gold Cloaks guarded the massive ornate doors.

Arya made it up to the front. And a tiny brunette pushed her to the side.

“Excuse me,” Arya said, her voice when wearing the tailor’s body was deep. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Random search.” The small woman smiled, placing a sharp but very ornate golden dagger to her throat. A much larger, less attractive version of her walked over and stared at Arya.

“Nym, why’d you pull this old goat over to the side?” The large one asked.

“Tyene said he smelled suspicious,” Nym sang. “Go back to your business Obara, don’t you have commoners to manhandle?”

“Bloody fuck, Tyene is strange as her light coloring is, who’s heard of a Dornish woman with blonde hair?” Obara scowled, leaning her spear against a nearby wall she stared at Arya. “How do you smell suspicion on somebody?”

A blonde strutted over, in the same gold cloak as the other two, “He smells like poison… one I can’t quite place but poison nonetheless.”

“I’m a tailor, perhaps your smelling the dye I use on my fabrics.” Arya was quick to counter.

“That seems plausible Tyene.” Nym’s grip on Arya lessened. “Let him in.”

“I’m still not sure.” Tyene muttered, she brought a pale hand to her lips and bit on a shiny fingernail.

“Well nothing like a ten hour interrogation and strip search to cure any doubt.” Obara grinned.

Arya grit her teeth, “I am a citizen of Westeros, I have rights!”

The three just ignored her and continued their argument.

“Obara, if you want to fondle wrinkly old man balls go right ahead, just don’t ask for my help,” Tyene turned away, obviously losing interest. “I wasn’t that suspicious of him, he just had a funny smell.”

Nym snickered and Obara looked a little disspointed.

“Who are you women?” Arya asked, unable to quell the curiousity.

“We’re the Sand Snakes, daughters of Oberyn Martell, the ruling family of Dorne.” Nym smiled.

“What are Martells doing out of Dorne?”

“Our family supported the Targaryen’s returning to power decades ago, the second our uncle, Prince of Dorne, learned of Queen Daenerys plan to conquer we immediately signed on.” Nym smiled.

“Too bad it ended up being a peaceful conquering,” Obara sighed. “I do love a blood bath.”

“You’re far too bloodthirsty for your own good, that’s why people call you the dumb Sand Snake.” Tyene grinned at her sister.

“Well at least I’m not the slutty one.” Obara retorted.

“Don’t look at me, Nym’s the slut, ask her how many Dothrakis have Dothed her Raki.” Tyene giggled.

“I can’t quite remember the number.” Nym frowned, sheathing her beautiful knife and rubbing the back of her neck.

This was getting ridiculous, what kind of queen would have these imbeciles guard her gate? Sure she had seen the marching Dothraki troops and the separate Unsullied troops but there seemed to be plenty left over to watch the doors. Anything seemed to be better than this lot. Though that one had smelt Death’s Nudge. Nonetheless, they were still stupid enough to let her pass.

“Can I enter the castle now? I have an appointment to give the queen a fitting.”

“Whatever, whatever, just shut up,” Nym shooed him off, like an animal begging for scraps.

Arya rolled her eyes and entered the castle. Phase one complete. Now came the hard part.