Author's Note: Hey everybody, sorry for the delay! This chapter fought me every step of the way and I couldn't have gotten through it without darkwolf76's help. You are the best! Hope you all like the chapter!

Chapter 31: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Rhaenys looked at the various foods spread out over her table with a critical eye and her hands on her hips. She had eggs, bread, various types of fruits, sausage, bacon and anything else a person could want to eat when they break their fast. Dacey was down in the training hall with Daemon and Rhaenys decided it was the perfect time to have Aegon over to break his fast. He had been mysteriously absent since they had settled in to the Great Pyramid and Rhaenys had had enough. She was related to Aegon by blood and she didn't even know what kinds of foods he liked to eat. So she requested a little bit of everything.

She nodded her head once in satisfaction and marched determinedly out of her bed chambers and across the hall to Aegon's room. He was gone every time she tried to see him in the middle of the day and who knows where he went at night. She woke bright and early today to make sure she would catch him in his bed chambers.

She took a deep breath, steeled her jaw and knocked on his door. She didn't even wait for him to answer, didn't even wait for him to shout an excuse but instead threw open the door and stepped inside.

She regretted it immediately.

Her wide, shocked eyes took in the scene before her, her mouth falling open in horror. Her brother was in the middle of fucking an ample bosomed brunette woman. He was kneeling on the bed, her feet were up on his shoulders and the most ridiculous noises were spilling from her mouth.

Rhaenys let out a violent string of curses, quickly slapping a hand over her eyes though she feared the image of her brothers naked arse would forever be burned into her mind. She heard the embarrassed squeal of the woman underneath him but she missed the furious glare that he shot at her.

"Bloody fucking hell, Rhaenys, out! Get out!" His voice was full of rage and frustration and she stumbled back into the door.

"I'm sorry!" She yelped, grasping blindly for the door handle. "I didn't - I only wanted - I'm sorry!"

She swung the door shut with a loud slam and stood there for a long moment, lowering her hand and breathing heavily. "Seven hells," Rhaenys murmured, putting a hand over her frantically racing heart.

What a bloody disaster, she thought as she shakily made her way back to her bed chamber. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it and shutting her eyes for a moment. A wave of despair washed over her. Was her relationship with her brother doomed? She had hardly gotten the chance to know him and all her attempts to try were thwarted.

She had promised Aegon that at the end of this journey they would go their separate ways if that was what he wanted. At this rate she felt she should prepare herself for this eventuality. With that depressing thought, Rhaenys plucked a persimmon from the table and moved to her window, leaning against the wall with a sigh as she looked outside.

Juice ran down her chin as she took a bite and she absentmindedly wiped it away, her mind drifting. She had been trying to decide what they should do ever since Danaerys informed them that she wouldn't be traveling back to Westeros with them. Dacey kept insisting that they go back home, telling her that they needed to reach Robb before the baby was born. If they waited too long, then she might be too far along to safely travel.

Rhaenys knew she was right. She knew they had to leave soon, but she wasn't quite ready to leave just yet, and she knew exactly why… she had just found her aunt and her brother. When she left Mereen she would be leaving her aunt behind and she had a deep fear in her gut that Aegon wouldn't be accompanying them back to Westeros and she would never see him again.

An image of Robb appeared in her mind, his auburn curls tousled, a grin on his face and those bright blue eyes that she loved so much… a wave of longing and homesicknesses swept through her that was so fierce it made her catch her breath.

Gods…. Was she doing the right thing?

"I'll want the dresses made out of this lighter material," Daenerys told the plump, older woman who was hurrying to keep up as they swept down the hallway. "Similar to the ones that you have made for me."

"Silk, Your Grace," Kezza replied, slightly out of breath. "I've made your dresses out of silk."

"An expensive material," Set Jorah commented lightly. "Are you quite sure about this, Your Grace? Does this mean you believe the girl is who she says she is?"

Daenerys considered this while descending yet another set of stairs. She still couldn't seem to think of Rhaenys and Aegon as her family. Viserys had told her that Rhaegar's children were murdered during the Sack of King's Landing - who would have possibly saved them and put other children in their places? Now they just both happen to show up in Mereen and are seeking an alliance with her? Too coincidental. They were most likely just trying to use her in order to use her dragons.

That being said however, Daenerys couldn't help but like Rhaenys as a person. Which is what makes all of this so very difficult. "I have enjoyed my conversations with Rhaenys very much. She is intelligent, passionate… and to be honest I find her very intriguing. Even if she doesn't have Targaryen blood running through her veins, she has the loyalty of the Martells and the Starks behind her. Building a relationship with her could prove to be very beneficial when we make it to Westeros."

Ser Jorah sent her a look that told her that he knew she sidestepped his question, but he didn't have time to say anything because they had arrived at Rhaenys' bedchambers. Taking a deep, steadying breath and feeling oddly nervous, Daenerys raised her fist and knocked on the door.

Rhaenys answered the door and froze. "Your Grace!" She exclaimed in surprise, her eyes moving between the three people in front of her. "Ser Jorah. I'm - what a pleasant surprise!" She automatically stepped aside to let them in. "Is - is everything alright?"

Daenerys signaled for Ser Jorah to wait outside and gave her a reassuring smile as she and the Mereneese woman swept past her. "Everything is just fine, no need to worry. This is Kezza, a truly wonderful seamstress who has made all of my dresses since being in Mereen." Kezza bowed her head, giving Daenerys a small curtsy as she murmured her thanks.

Rhaenys closed the door, her eyes flicking uncertainly between the two women. "It is nice to meet you, Kezza. I'm afraid I don't understand - "

"You have been in Mereen for a while now, and I like to think we've gotten to know each other a little better…Rhaenys." She said after a pause. She saw the surprise flicker across Rhaenys' face. This was the first time that Daenerys had ever called her by her given name instead of 'Your Grace.' She hoped that Rhaenys recognized it for what it was - a step in the right direction, a step towards becoming more familiar with each other. "I hope that I don't offend you, but I've noticed the few dresses you have brought with you are heavy and travel worn. I've invited Kezza here to take your measurements. I'd like to have some dresses made for you."

Rhaenys looked touched, but she was also shaking her head. "Thank you, Your Grace, but I couldn't possibly - "

"Daenerys," she interrupted, with a small smile. "You may call me Daenerys, during these private, informal meetings."

"Thank you… Daenerys," Rhaenys said, unable to keep her own smile off her face. "You flatter me with your kind gesture, but I couldn't possibly accept - it is far too generous."

"Of course you can," Daenerys corrected, letting out a tinkling laugh. "It is a gift."

Rhaenys' smile became fixed, and she shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you, but I don't need any new dresses - "

Daenerys' shook her head, feeling both confused and exasperated. Why was she still trying to refuse? "Stubbornness runs in the family, it would seem. You hurt my feelings when you refuse my gift. Is there a reason why you are saying no?"

Rhaenys opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it again with an unconscious glance towards Kezza. Daenerys caught the glance and frowned, feeling as if there was something else going on here that she wasn't understanding. "Thank you, Kezza," Daenerys said, her eyes still on Rhaenys, watching her fidget. "That will be all." The older woman bowed, looking slightly relieved as she hurried out of the room. Once she was gone Daenerys moved further into the room. She headed towards the couch, noting the abundance of food on the table. "Were you hosting a small feast?" She joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Her attempt seemed to have the opposite affect. Rhaenys winced instead, her face turning red. "I was hoping to have Aegon over to break his fast, but he, ah - he was… busy."

Daenerys considered that for a moment, but chose to focus on one issue at a time. "I hope you'll forgive me, Rhaenys, but the few dresses that you have with you are cold weather dresses, they're very travel worn and - again, forgive me - they're not exactly befitting a queen."

"They were all that we could get before we left Westeros," Rhaenys said, sounding slightly defensive. "I didn't exactly have time to pick up more appropriate dresses, I was too busy fleeing and pretending to be dead."

Daenerys grimaced, already regretting her word choice. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend you. I'm just trying to explain my reasoning behind my offer. I'm just trying to - I don't know what I'm trying to do," she muttered, throwing her hands up in frustration. This was not how she had expected or wanted this to go.

"No, I'm sorry," Rhaenys said with a sigh. "You were trying to do something nice," Her lips twitched up to a sad smile as she glanced up at Daeaerys and away. "And I'm sorry that I wasn't more gracious in my response. There is a reason why my first reaction is to refuse your dresses, no matter how generous the offer was or how much I may need them."

Daenerys read the torn expression on her face and frowned. "But you don't want to tell me what that reason is?" She was surprised to find that she was a little hurt by this realization.

Rhaenys looked at her, running a hand through her short hair anxiously. "Besides the fact that I still don't know if I can trust you, I have only told three people. Telling more people makes it more real and…" She took a deep breath. "And honestly that terrifies me."

Daenerys was positively burning with curiosity by this point, but she tried to rein it in. "I won't force you to tell me anything, Rhaenys, it's your business, not mine. But… but I am here for you if you want to talk about any - "

"I'm pregnant!" Rhaenys blurted. Both of them froze for a moment, shocked.

Daenerys' eyes unconsciously traveled down and stopped on Rhaenys' stomach. She didn't see a bump or notice anything different, but it didn't stop the hot swoop of jealousy that Daenerys felt in her own belly. Rhaego, her sweet, innocent baby boy appeared unbidden in her mind's eye and her hand twitched as if to place it over her own stomach.

The old feelings of pain, regret and a sharp, desperate longing filled her, stealing her breath. Even after all these years, she still grieved for her unborn son. She had wanted to hold him and love him. She had wanted to watch him take his first steps, say his first words and learn to fight from his father, Drogo.

She would never have that chance, ever. She would never have more children. Rhaenys, however, her supposed niece, would have everything that she had had taken away from her.

Daenerys blinked, realizing that she had been silent for too long. Still reeling from the barrage of emotions, she fixed a smile on her face. "Pregnant!" She repeated, inwardly wincing at how high and forced her voice sounded. "Is it your husbands? No, don't answer that, that was incredibly rude. I'm so happy for you! A child is - a child is a truly wonderful blessing," she finished lamely.

Rhaenys was frowning, an odd look on her face. "Yes, of course it's my husbands child. Are you alright, Your - Daenerys?"

Daenerys turned abruptly, moving towards the window. She stared out of it, her gaze unfocused.

"The stallion who mounts the world," Drogo murmured, his large hand resting protectively over their unborn son. Daenerys watched him as he spoke, her violet eyes soft as her gaze traced over the man whom she had grown to love. His black eyes burned with promise and the sound of the bells in his long hair accentuated every word as he moved. "I swear to the Mother of Mountains that I will ride your wooden horses across the black water and I will give him the iron chair. I swear it, moon of my life."

"Our son will be heir to all of Westeros," Daenerys responded with a smile, placing her hand upon his cheek. "You will do what no khal has ever dared to do and we will make our enemies suffer for what they have done."

Drogo shifted, pressing his hips into her and showing her just what her words did to him. She giggled as he shifted on top of her, leaning his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her belly. "You grow fiercer by the day," he murmured low in her ear. "If you keep talking like this, we will never leave this bed."

"I would be quite happy spending most of our time in bed with you, my sun and stars - " Her words ended on a gasp as he gently bit her ear and spread her legs beneath him. She very quickly lost her train of thought as they both surrendered to the moment of passion.

"Daenerys?"

Daenerys blinked, abruptly coming back to herself and remembering where she was. Her chest ached as Drogo's image faded from her mind and her arms ached to hold the son she had never even gotten to see. She crossed them over her flat and empty stomach, holding onto her elbows tightly. "I'm sorry, Rhaenys," she apologized, turning to find the other girl watching her with a look of utmost concern on her face. She felt shaken and incredibly off balance. Why was she reacting this way? "It's just been so long since I've allowed myself to think of them."

"Think of who?" Rhaenys asked, moving to sit on the couch.

Daenerys looked into Rhaenys' wide, trusting brown eyes and felt the words begin to rise in her throat. Part of her wanted to tell her everything, to talk about the two most important people in her life. The other part, the part who found it incredibly difficult to trust, made her bite her tongue.

"I kept my identity a secret from my siblings and my cousins for twenty years and from my husband for our two years of marriage. I found Meraxes' egg beneath the crypts of Winterfell and kept it a secret from Robb. I drank Moon Tea, a medicinal tea that some women in Westeros drink to prevent pregnancy and kept it from Robb." She was talking quickly, the words spewing from her mouth as if she couldn't hold them back. "Even when I make it back to Westeros I'm not sure if Robb will be able to forgive me. I was with child once before but I lost the baby early on and now I'm completely terrified of losing this one. Add that to the fact that I never had a mother so I'm pretty sure I'm going to be absolute shit at it and those are my biggest mistakes and my biggest fears. Your past cannot possibly be as awful as mine."

Daenerys felt nothing but shock. She had never had someone confide anything like that to her before. Her tone was honest, but she could see the vulnerability in Rhaenys' eyes and she could hear the anger and self-loathing in her voice. Daenerys carefully sat beside her, trying to digest all of that information that she had just heard. She placed her fingers in her lap, staring down at them, her mind at war with itself. "If I look back I am lost," she heard herself say quietly.

Rhaenys frowned, confused. "What does that mean?"

"I cannot dwell on the past, lest I get swallowed by my grief or my pain. I started out with one goal - to overthrow the usurper and reclaim my family's throne. Now I want to do right by the people of Mereen and make sure that the slaves I freed have a future. That is what I have to focus on."

Rhaenys nodded thoughtfully. "I can understand that, it's important to have something to focus on, something in the future." She grabbed a persimmon from the table. "Personally, that would never work for me though," she said, shaking her head.

Daenerys sat there for a moment, waiting as she took a bite, but when she didn't elaborate, she leaned forward. "Well… why not?"

Rhaenys swiped a drop of juice from the corner of her mouth, thinking. "I mean sure, a part of me would love to forget all the mistakes that I made. But… I feel like I've learned from those mistakes and I've grown from them." Rhaenys put the persimmon back down, turning to face her fully. "Do you know what I wanted most growing up?" Daenerys shook her head, trying to keep up as she jumped from topic to topic. "Revenge. Revenge against the Lannisters, the Baratheons, anyone who destroyed my family."

Daenerys' frown deepened, her forehead crinkling. "Are you saying that you don't want revenge anymore?"

"No," Rhaenys said slowly, shaking her head. "No, I still want justice for my - our family. But I feel like my motivations are different now, because of my mistakes. Now I want to fight for a safer home for my family, for Robb, for our child and our future children. I want to reunite my Stark family and I want to reclaim an independent North for our northern allies and to free them from the thumb of the south." Rhaenys hesitated, then carefully reached out a hand and placed it on top of both of hers. "It took me over nine and ten years to realize this but there's more to life than revenge… there's family."

Irritated, Daenerys pulled her hands away, missing the flash of hurt on Rhaenys' face. "Not all of us had a family. I wasn't surrounded by siblings, uncles and cousins. I only had my brother and he was cruel, weak and sold me for a Dothraki army. My new husband and I didn't even speak the same language but we grew to understand each other and we grew to care for each other. Within a couple of moons I learned that I was with child." She stared across the room without seeing anything, lost in happier memories.

"You had a child?"

"A son," Daenerys responded, her voice barely a whisper. "We named him Rhaego."

"What happened to them, Daenerys?" Rhaenys asked quietly, sounding as if she truly didn't want to know.

Daenerys hardened herself against the pain, shoving it deep inside. Her voice was almost monotone as she spoke. "Drogo suffered a cut during a fight and I allowed a godswife to treat it, a woman who would have been a slave, but I had given her my protection. Drogo's wound ended up festering to the point where he was going to die. I begged this woman to use her blood magic to save him even though I knew there would be a price to pay. She betrayed me and I ended up paying for his life with my sons. He died in my belly. They said he was deformed when he was born, covered in dragon-like scales."

"I'm so, so sorry, Daenerys." Daenerys looked over at her, then away just as quickly, unable to take the horror and sorrow in her eyes. "What… about Drogo? Did he live?"

Daenerys recalled the way his eyes stared at her unseeingly, the way he couldn't really do much on his own. He looked like her sun and stars, but he had lost that fiery spark that made him him. "In a way, I suppose. He was breathing but he wasn't able to do much else. Drogo was a gifted warrior and an undefeated warlord whose hair had never been cut. Within one glance I could tell that he would never fight again, never ride his horse, never… never hold me in his arms."

"I'm sorry," Rhaenys said again, looking absolutely wretched. "Oh, I'm sorry, I always do this!" Rhaenys swiftly stood, running her hands through her hair in agitation. "Family has always been so important to me and here I am pushing what I believe onto both you and Aegon - " She stopped talking, dropping her hands and facing her again. "I was just so excited to find the little brother that I thought had been murdered and then when I learned that I had a long lost aunt and uncle…" She trailed off shaking her head.

Daenerys stood as well, going over to her and deliberately taking her hands with a small smile. "I like you, Rhaenys. I didn't want to," she admitted with a short laugh. "I wanted to hate you for coming into my life, proclaiming you and Aegon to not only be Targaryens but to have a better claim to the throne than I. I don't know about family just yet, but I'd like to be… friends. We certainly just learned a lot about each other."

"We did, didn't we? Friends," Rhaenys repeated, with a slow nod. "I would like that too."

"So does this mean you'll accept my gift?" Daenerys asked, making an attempt to lighten the mood. She circled Rhaenys critically, thinking out loud. "We can make your dresses lighter for Mereen's heat and we can have the material flow and stretch more to accommodate your growing belly."

Rhaenys smiled uncertainly. "Alright… I accept your gift. And Daenerys?" Daenerys looked up at Rhaenys and was alarmed to find the other girls eyes were shining. She let out a startled gasp as Rhaenys pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you for trusting me and for telling me about your family. Do…." Rhaenys pulled back, looking at her cautiously. "Do you want to tell me more about them? I'd like to hear more about Drogo and Viserys if you're willing to talk about them."

"I'd like that," Daenerys nodded, heading back towards the couch. "Would it be alright if I ate some of Aegon's food? I had meetings all morning, so I wasn't able to break my fast."

"It's all yours," Rhaenys snorted, plopping on the couch next to her. "He's certainly not going to eat it. Listen to what happened this morning."

"So what do you think?" Dacey asked, hanging up the practice sword and turning towards Daemon. "Do you think we should continue to stay in Mereen or do you think we should head back home?"

Daemon shot her a pointed look. "We've been over this, Dace, it doesn't matter what we think. Our queen wants to stay for a bit longer so that's what we're going to do."

"I just…" she trailed off, trying to find the right words. "I just have this feeling that we need to get back. Daenerys seems nice and she would be a strong ally, especially with those dragons of hers, but she said she wasn't ready to go to Westeros. Rhaenys values our opinions and I really think that if we both sat down and talked with her that she would - "

"Isn't there anything else that we can talk about?" Daemon interrupted with a sigh, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead. "We just had an intense practice session… we're already sweaty… what do you say?" He asked, circling her slowly, a smirk on his face. "Shall we continue this upstairs in my bedchamber?"

If Dacey rolled her eyes any harder they would get stuck in the back of her head. "In your dreams, Sand."

"I'm nothing if not persistent, Lady Mormont. We're both young, attractive, unattached and basically alone in a foreign country."

Dacey pushed his warm, inviting voice from her mind. She would be lying if she said that she didn't find Daemon attractive or that she hadn't thought about the two of them together. She had been lonely since they left Westeros, but things with Daemon would get…. complicated. They had both promised to protect Rhaenys and keep her safe while she went to find her aunt and if they got together it would make that job much more difficult.

"If you're quite finished, I have to get back. I told our queen that I would give her some time alone with her brother and I think it's been long enough," Dacey said over her shoulder, brushing past him slightly as she began to walk away. She could feel his eyes on her as she left and she couldn't help the satisfied smile playing on the edge of her lips.

She headed back up the many flights of stairs, once again thinking of how she could convince Rhaenys to head back to Westeros. She could bring up the fact that if they wait too long then Robb may have to marry someone else. Rhaenys has mentioned that she was already worrying about that, but - was that too cruel? To use her fears against her? Maybe she should just sit down, talk with her and discuss everything out in the open. How would she explain it though? A 'gut feeling' was not a good argument - the queen would never take her seriously.

Dacey was so caught up in her thoughts that it wasn't until she was almost to the door of Rhaenys' bedchambers did she notice that there was somebody standing outside of it. She stopped dead in her tracks, a string of curses on the tip of her tongue. "What are you doing here?" She accused, eyes narrowed.

Jorah Mormont looked at her with that same, sad expression that he'd had on his face since she first saw him. "Queen Daenerys and Queen Rhaenys are inside."

Dacey's eyes widened, alarm trickling through her. "They are? Alone? Is Aegon in there with them?"

Jorah frowned. "Aegon? No, he wasn't - " Dacey made to step around him and open the door. "Alright, hold on, Dacey," he said, throwing up an arm. "The queen does not wish to be disturbed - "

"No offense to your queen, but I don't trust her to be alone with my queen - "

"Dacey. Dacey, stop for a second." Huffing in annoyance, Dacey glared up at him. "Ser Barristan told me what a capable fighter Queen Rhaenys is. She has nothing to fear from Queen Daenerys, trust me - "

"Trust you?" Dacey slowly raised an eyebrow, then purposefully stepped around him and knocked on the door. "Your Grace? It's Dacey. Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Dacey listened intently, her ear basically pressed to the door. She wasn't satisfied and didn't relax until she heard her queen's voice. It was muffled, but there was no panic or strain in her tone when she told Dacey she was just fine.

Dacey crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall on the opposite side of Rhaenys' door. She completely ignored her cousin standing just a few feet from her, but almost immediately the silence was deep and deafening. She shifted from one leg to the other, adjusted her dress, did everything possible to ignore the anger coursing through her body.

Unfortunately, the silence did not last long. "Dacey, can we talk about this - "

That was all it took. "Talk about what, Jorah?" Dacey snapped, rounding on him with flashing green eyes. She did her best to keep her voice down so the two queens wouldn't hear, but it was very difficult to do. "What would you like to talk about? The fact that you sold people into slavery in order to pay off your debts because of your bitch of a wife? The fact that you fled Bear Island rather than face the punishment for your crimes? The fact that you broke your father's heart, destroyed the Mormont reputation and left us to clean up your shit?"

Shame. Shame radiated from Jorah in waves, but that coupled with his sad blue only served to make her angrier. "I'm sorry Dacey. You have no idea how sorry I am and how much regret I have - "

"I am not the one you have to apologize to, Jorah," Dacey retorted, shaking her head. "Uncle Jeor took the fucking black so that you could become the head of House Mormont. And my mother! My mother had to step in and take over after you left. Thank the gods my mother is the stubborn, fierce woman that she is - she pulled us out of near poverty and restored honor to our family." She stared at him, arms still crossed. For years Dacey had pictured this moment, had pictured getting the chance to come face to face with the man who had almost ruined them. "Was she worth it?"

"No," Jorah answered, sounding defeated. He rubbed a weary hand over his face. "I don't know what to tell you, Dacey, I don't have an excuse. Lynesse was young, beautiful and everything that I thought I wanted in a woman and a wife. It just took too much to make her happy."

Dacey snorted. "Too much? It took everything Jorah. You constantly showered her with expensive gifts, you hired a cook from Oldtown and you bought her a bloody harpist from Lannisport. Not to mention the fact that you were constantly taking her to all those fancy festivals. Did you see anything besides her beauty?"

Jorah grimaced and looked away.

"She was awful, Jorah. She hated living on Bear Island, she treated our household staff poorly and she looked down on us as if we were beneath her. Lynesse was the polar opposite of Myriame."

Jorah looked startled. "Myriame? What do you remember of Myriame? She died when you were just a child."

"I loved her just as much as you did. Uncle Jeor was always busy, my mother was always busy with my sisters so all I really had was Aly and you and Myriame. Sure, I was young, but I remember Myriame. I remember she used to help me with my hair, she gave the best hugs and the three of us used to go out riding all the time." She stopped speaking abruptly. She almost caught herself almost smiling as memories that she hadn't thought about in over a decade resurfaced. Bloody hell. "Anyway. Myriame may not have been as beautiful as Lynesse was, but she was incredibly kind, thoughtful and she was so much fun to be around."

There was a pained expression on his face. "It's been so long since I thought of Myriame. I remember those rides though," he said slowly. "Myriame and I were married so young.. we thought that she would have no trouble getting with child. But years passed and she miscarried several times. We wanted nothing more than to have a child together and the fact that we couldn't - it broke us in a way that we couldn't heal. Without even really knowing it… you sort of helped fill that hole for us."

"I - " She paused, glancing up at him in surprise, momentarily forgetting to be angry. "I did?"

"I don't know if you remember what you were like as a child," he said with a small chuckle. "But you were always moving, never settling down for more than five minutes at a time. You constantly wanted to be outside, usually adventuring somewhere on a horse. You loved to play monsters and maidens and come into my castle - I think we once played that game for several hours straight. You were so full of life and laughter that when we were around you, we were able to forget about our troubles."

Dacey frowned down at the ground as he spoke, sadness settling in her chest. She wished she recalled more of what he was describing. She was so young when Myriame died that she only remembered some things. "Did you love her, Jorah?"

"Of course, I did," he said instantly. "Myriame and I were married at a young age but we were together ten years and we grew to love each other very much."

"So then you're telling me that you loved Lynesse as well?" Dacey asked, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

"It was… different with Lynesse," Jorah admitted. "But yes, I loved her too."

Dacey just didn't see how that was possible. She knew what kind of person Lynesse had been - vain, self-centered and a complete and utter snob. If he had loved somebody as wonderful as Myriame, how could he have also loved Lynesse? Was a woman's appearance really as important to men as they say?Could beauty have completely blinded Jorah to the type of person that Lynesse was?

"What happened to her?" She asked him. "Where is she?"

Jorah looked away, grimacing. "She's in Lys. She the chief concubine of a wealthy merchant prince."

Dacey's jaw dropped, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. "I - I don't know what to say."

"I guess there's a first time for everything," he murmured under his breath with a snort, earning himself an annoyed glare. He seemed unconcerned by it. "So where does this leave us now, Dacey?"

Dacey sighed, leaning her head back against the wall as she considered his question. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I'm still so mad at you and I can't just forgive you for what you did to our whole family." Jorah took a deep breath, nodding slowly with those his sad blue eyes. "But… I think we can co-exist while we're in Mereen."

"I'd like that." He glanced at her, straightening slightly and setting his jaw stubbornly. "I understand why you're still angry with me. I promise you, Dacey - I don't know how or when - but I will make up the wrongs I've done to all of you. I will earn everyone's forgiveness no matter what it takes."

Dacey pictured Jorah attempting to apologize to her short-tempered mother and felt amusement run through her. Whenever this hypothetical situation took place, she absolutely needed to be there.

There was a frown on Olyvar's face as he slowly walked through the castle at Riverrun, completely lost in his thoughts. He was worried about his king and he wasn't really sure what to do about it. He had seen Robb continually withdraw into himself since he had lost his wife. The king used to be so full of joy and life, but now a part of him seemed to have died. He seemed to force every emotion now, except for anger… there was always a simmering anger just below the surface.

Then, with everything that had happened earlier today… he just really wanted to make sure the king was alright.

At least…. That was what he told himself he was doing. There was no way that he was going to talk to him because of his talk with Perwyn earlier. His brother was pressuring him once again to try and convince the king to accept their father's wedding proposal. The king had been effectively and politely sidestepping his father's rather insistent attempts to talk and Olyvar could only imagine how impatient Lord Frey was getting.

The sound of something shattering came from down the corridor, causing Olyvar's eyes to widen and his heart to pick up speed. He lengthened his stride, hurrying towards the king's bedchambers.

After glancing at the guards posted at the door, he gave a tentative knock. "Your Grace?" He called out nervously. "It's Olyvar. Is everything alright?"

The sound of something else breaking and explosive cursing came from inside and Olyvar took a deep breath, opening the door, his wide eyes taking in the scene in front of him. Robb was standing on one side of the room, breathing heavily with part of a chair still in his hands, the rest of it smashed into pieces on the floor. Glass littered the floor and what looked like wine was dripping down one of the walls. The king was breathing heavily, his hair in disarray and he was still wearing the same clothes from earlier, blood still spattered down the front.

Olyvar only had to look at him to know he was more than a little drunk.

Pieces of the broken chair flew across the room, inches from his face and Olyvar made a split second decision. He poked his head back out into the corridor, sent the guards away and closed the door, barring it so nobody could come in.

"Well, my mother was right!" Robb was shouting as Olyvar turned around. "Karstark's men have gone and abandoned us."

"Your Grace - " he began imploringly, but he was cut off.

"You know, I'm really not in the mood to hear any 'I told you so's' right now - shit," he cursed, stumbling over a broken piece of chair.

"Your Grace - "

"I had no choice!" He exploded, blue eyes wild. "Karstark murdered two fucking children! And not just any children. Those were Lannister children and they were my prisoners of war - they were under my care and protection! By killing those children, he puts any prisoner of war at risk - he puts Sansa at risk! The gods only know what Tywin Lannister is going to do when he hears of this."

Olyvar paled. "Your Grace, no one is - "

"I could not just allow him go by unpunished. "He specif- spef -" He drunkenly stumbled over his words, then gave up, frustrated. "He disobeyed a direct order. My men would never respect my rule if they knew they could get away with disobeying me without punishment. I - I did what I thought was right," he muttered, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up more. "I did what my father would have done."

Olyvar had never met Lord Stark, but he had heard about him. Everyone spoke of what an honorable, fair and just man he was and if that was true, then the king was most definitely his son. He had seen it in the way that Robb interacted with his men, in how he dealt with conflict… in how he interacted with his wife and mother.

Robb stumbled backwards a few steps towards the bed and sat down heavily. "It's all falling apart, isn't it? My family is either dead or scattered across Westeros, we've lost the Karstark men, the riverlords have gone back to protect their homes - Tywin Lannister doesn't even have to attack and we're still helping him win the war. Add that to the fact that I've got Frey so far up my ass - " He broke off, with a frown, his eyes focusing on Olyvar for a long moment. "No offense meant, Olyvar."

"Not at all, Your Grace!" Olyvar hurriedly assured him. "I have no delusions as to the type of man my father is. But…" He paused for a second, debating whether or not he should say this next part. "My siblings have told me who my father has in mind for you. He wants you to marry Roslin, my full-blooded younger sister. She's really very pretty, and I promise I'm not just saying that. She's thin, with brown hair and eyes. Roslin is very sweet and so kind, she would make a wonderful wife and mother to your future children - " Robb made a low, strangled noise in his throat and Olyvar's heart dropped. Idiot! He berated, mentally smacking himself in the forehead. "No - ! Oh, Your Grace, I didn't mean - I know you loved Queen Maliya - I just…"

He trailed off at the absolutely shattered look on Robb's face. Olyvar looked at him and a mixture of sadness and pity trickled through him. He had seen Robb on the battlefield and he had seen him talking to and leading his men - King Robb was strong, confident and charismatic, but Robb the man… he was struggling under the pressure. It was hard to see someone you admired and respected go through something like this.

Perwyn's insistent voice echoed in the back of Olyvar's mind but he shoved it away in annoyance. He continued to speak, but this time he wasn't half-heartedly pushing his father's goals. This time, he was trying to help a man that he considered to be a friend.

"Listen, Your Grace, I know how much you loved Queen Maliya. I've never met anyone quite like her and I'm sure no one will ever come close to her. I know my father - he will not let you and your army cross at the Twins. If you wish to return north to Winterfell, you have to accept the marriage proposal."

Robb flopped back on the bed, throwing an arm over his face. "I can't."

"Why not?" Olyvar waited, but when Robb remained silent he continued. "I know you are still grieving and I know that what you need is time, but you don't have any. What I can tell you is that Roslin will be respectful of that and she will allow you to take whatever time you need." He stared down at the floor, a small smile playing around the corner of his mouth as an image of his little sister appeared in his mind. "Roslin is a good girl. She loves flowers, she's always singing and she's so incredibly kind. When I was younger, I got into a fight with my brother, Perwyn, and ended up breaking my leg. I was angry and a pain in the ass and Roslin sat with me everyday while I was bedridden. She read books to me, brought me food and made me forget about my pain, if only for a little while."

Robb continued to speak from under his arm. "She sounds lovely Olyvar." His soft voice trailed off for a second and Olyvar had to strain to hear his next words. "But I'm already married."

Olyvar winced, swallowing hard. "Your Grace, I'm sorry, but Queen Maliya, she's - "

"Not dead." Robb's voice was barely a whisper, as if he were struggling to stay awake. Olyvar was straining so hard to hear him that he took several involuntary steps forward. Not dead? Had he heard that correctly? Shock and doubt ran through him. How was that even possible?

"Your Grace, I don't - "

"She could be dead by now, I s'pose," Robb mumbled. "But she wasn't when she left. I… I dunno where she is and I dunno if she's ever coming back. She promised… she promised she'd come back to me."

Olyvar stood there for a full minute, mouth slightly ajar as Robb's words sunk in. The queen… was alive? But how? They had a funeral for her, there was the remains of a body… Could Robb's mind have fractured in such a way that he honestly believed that his wife was still alive? And even if she were alive, where in the seven hells was she? Why had she left?

A loud snort startled him out of his thoughts and he looked at the King, who had fallen asleep and who obviously would not be answering any questions. That would have to wait until tomorrow.

For now, Olyvar would spend a sleepless night wondering if the Queen in the North was out there somewhere, still alive… or if the king's mind had officially cracked.

Author's Note: Uh oh... Drunk Robb let the big secret slip - and to a Frey no less! What did you guys think of the Rhaenys/Dany bonding and the Jorah/Dacey scene? I hope I did them both justice!

Coming up next: Dragon training, a Rhaenys/Barristan scene, Olyvar confronts Robb about what he let slip and Oberyn and co. return to Dorne.

Be sure to leave a review and let me know what you thought! :) Anything in particular you guys want to see?

king - She should! But how would she go about doing that from on the other side of the world? And what if it fell into the wrong hands? Thanks for leaving a review!

Guest - I'm glad you're liking the Rhaenys/Dany scenes, those are so fun to write! I agree, Robb is really struggling right now - but after everything he's been through can you blame him? Thanks for the review!