On her second night back at Dragonstone, she met with her advisors. "He's going to call on every house other than yours to move against you," Jorah predicted.

"Normally I'd agree," Arya said as she paced about, "but he doesn't have time. I gave him a week and we're already on day two. Do you think Cersei Lannister is going to sit on her hands and wait for Robert to order more troops? We're close enough they can smell us and that must be driving her mad. She'll want to move as soon as possible and that'll force Robert to scale back the size of the force. Plus, he can't leave King's Landing unprotected. He doesn't know I called back the men who had been killing his scouts."

"That's right," Missandei said, smiling brightly in understanding. "As far as he knows they are still there, waiting to attack. He'll have to leave soldiers behind in case they do."

"Exactly. We lost boats and men before we ever reached the shore and they will too. When they come, we'll be on those catapults, lining the walls with archers. Getting up the walls is a long and bloody fight, believe me."

"What else?" Daenerys asked.

"The courtyard, I'm having the men build extra platforms so our archers can have a better view of their targets once the fighting moves there. They'll be ready long before the boats arrive."

"That space is tight, fighting there will be fast and brutal."

She agreed with the knight again. "It will, nothing can change that."

"So how do you propose we keep everyone safe?" he said, looking suggestively toward the women at the table.

"Daenerys and Missandei and a hand-selected group of warriors will remain in the castle. If we are pushed back that far, we'll converge to protect them."

"I hope it's enough," Jorah commented under his breath. Secretly Arya did too.

"What do we know about who's coming?"

Jorah held up a fragment of paper. "Word arrived from Winterfell Khaleesi. Robb Stark has been ordered to march, and he is moving but he reports that his men aren't feeling particularly motivated. He thinks it'll be weeks until they cross the border into the South."

She smiled and shook her head. Up until that moment she hadn't known how Robb was going to land in all this. Like their father he had a strong sense of duty, but he also valued family.

"That's pleasant news," Daenerys said to no one and everyone. "Anything else?"

"The Tully's are reporting similar conditions. They'd originally pledged to help Robert defend the throne, but unrest around Riverrun has forced them to not only decrease the amount of aid, but also postpone it. Like the Starks they won't be anywhere near King's Landing in the next week."

Just as she did when Jorah spoke of Robb, Arya smiled and kept her mouth shut. "What is this unrest?" Daenerys asked. "Can we exploit it further?"

"There is no unrest," she admitted after a short laugh. "The Tullys are simply using that as an excuse not to fight us."

"Why would they do that? Who are the Tullys? Why do they care?"

She put her hand on top of Daenerys's on the table. "My mother was a Tully. Word has obviously reached them that my father is going North. Allegiances are shifting."

Although she didn't speak of it Arya was thrilled to learn she wouldn't have to go to war with those she loved. She told herself she would have been willing to run right through Robb and his men to kill the King but she didn't know how true that was. She felt nothing but relief at the knowledge that her father wouldn't be opposite her on the day. She also had no idea if these admissions made her weaker or stronger.

R-C

During his brief time at Dragonstone, Arya repeatedly had Joffrey removed from his cell and taken to the yard to watch her and her men train. She wanted him to see their skill, she wanted him to be terrified, and if the scent of piss stuck to his clothes was any indication, he was.

On the third day she stopped training, picked up a well-made sword and carried it over to where he watched. "I'll make you a deal," she said as she laid the sword in front of him. "Pick up that weapon and best me and you're free to go." He looked skeptical so she kept pushing. "Come on, one fight. You know the sword, right? Between your father and your uncle, you must have learned. Defeat me and you can go on your way, but if I win I'm going to cut off your head and stick it from the highest point in the castle so it's the first thing your father sees when he gets close enough."

It was clear how badly he wanted to pick up the blade, but he didn't. Around him the Dothraki laughed, having had Missandei translate the exchange for them. "Laugh all you want!" he screamed at them like a petulant child. "When my father and uncle get here, then you'll be sorry."

"I look forward to it." She picked the sword up and leaned in close enough to whisper. "Know this, when they are dead at my feet, you'll be next."

"Oh yeah!" he yelled, growing more furious the more the Dothraki ridiculed him. "When I get back to King's Landing I'm going to chop up your sister. I was growing bored with her anyway."

"Sansa's gone and you're never going to see her again," Arya replied as she struggled to control her rage. "But maybe before I kill you, I'll let the men treat you like you treated her." The limited color drained from his face as he looked at the collection of muscular warriors. "Enjoy the fresh air, you've got less than four days to live."

When she turned she was greeted by Daenerys, who handed her a glass of something cool to drink. She took it gratefully and thanked her with a kiss. "Once I kill you," Joffrey shouted as she walked away, "I'll take her to be my new wife, now that Sansa's gone."

Arya laughed humorlessly as she handed the glass back to Daenerys. "You fucking idiot. You have no idea who she is, do you? Your father would rather see me kill you ten times over than have you bring her home to be your wife."

She could see he was clueless. Arya had reached her limit. She ordered the men to take him to his cell. As he went, he kept yelling, "Who is she? Who is she?"

She took a long drink from the glass Daenerys provided. "I am going to enjoy killing him."

R-C

She gave him seven days, he used only four. On the fourth morning, the scouts on the wall spoke of dots in the distance. By midday those dots were very clearly ships.

She stood on the wall, with a bow in hand, an arakh strapped to her back and a shield waiting at her feet. Needle was within reach too in the event she needed it. Every Dothraki was eager for a fight. The Blood Riders flanked her with Jorah while Missandei and Daenerys stood behind. For days, she'd been trying to urge Daenerys to stay inside, but she hadn't been persuasive enough. As Daenerys saw it, they'd come here to defend her honor and she wasn't going to hide away while they did it. Her hair was tightly braided and she too had her arakh. Missandei's dagger easily accessible on the front of her dress and a short sword was well within her reach.

As soon as the first boats were in range the onslaught started. They fired large flaming boulders and arrows. Each time one of the boulders hit, the Dothraki would shriek. She'd promised them the raid to end all raids, and she delivered.

When a boat made contact with the shore, they took defensive positions against the arrows rather than rushing for the walls. Layers of shields protected Robert's men as they unloaded. The battle raged until Arya ordered the bowman to stop. All they were doing was wasting arrows.

They sunk eight ships before they reached Dragonstone and killed an unknown number with arrows, but now the enemy was on the beach, organized and ready for a fight. On the walls and down below in the courtyard her people were anxiously waiting. They would write about her one day, about what she did and why. What would they say? What was about to happen would make her battle to take Dragonstone from Stannis look like a child's game.

"Arya Stark! I am King Robert Baratheon and I demand the release of my son Joffrey."

She stepped forward and made herself visible. "Hello again Robert, it's been a long time." Next to him, she was a bit surprised to see Cersei on her horse. "Lady Lannister, I didn't think you'd be making the trip."

"You stole my son, of course I'm here. Where is he?!"

"He's resting," she yelled. "He's fine I assure you. He was little more than a means to an end."

"Then release him."

"What's the rush?" she asked her former King. "You just got here."

Robert yanked on the reins of his horse. "All this over a woman, a Targaryen…"

"I'd be very careful if I were you," she encouraged, as she stole a glance at Daenerys. "You're already on thin ice and you are a very fat man."

His face colored to show his anger and although it might've been her imagination, she thought she saw Jaime's pearl white teeth too.

"Kneel before me and ask forgiveness and I'll give you the honor of a quick death, for your mother and father's sake."

She chuckled darkly. "Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you."

"You killed a lot of people to get me here. What happens now?" he wanted to know.

"We settle unfinished business." A snap of her fingers had Joffrey brought forward. He had his hands bound behind his back and a gag stuffed into his mouth. "This piece of shit beat and raped my sister for years. By the laws of the Seven Kingdoms I'm owed justice. Without looking at her opponent, she announced, "I challenge you to trial by combat. Do you accept?"

"Joffrey don't do it!" his mother shouted.

With the gag no longer in his mouth, the prisoner moved to the edge of the wall and looked down at the tens of thousands of troops brought to try and win his freedom. She doubted his pride would allow him to decline and he didn't disappoint. "I accept!" he shouted. She cut his arms free and he immediately held them up, trying to illicit a reaction from the crowd. "Where are we fighting?"

"Right fucking here," she told him. Expecting this outcome, she had armor and a variety of weapons available for him to choose from. He dressed quickly and chose the biggest sword.

When he raised steel over his head, the Dothraki around them made space. Drawing her arakh she promised her people they'd see a spectacle of death. They cheered for her, while she made her way to Daenerys. Kissing her Khaleesi, she brushed a strand of silver hair away from her face. "Stay back, I don't trust him not to try something."

Daenerys held her hand for a second longer and stole one more kiss. Just when she thought she might actually get to fight Joffrey the voice she'd been expecting called to her. "Wait! I wish to be Joffrey's champion."

"Uncle King Slayer, how sweet. What's it going to be? You going to fight me or let your big bad uncle do it for you?"

Missandei translated and the Dothraki laughed at her mocking words, turning Joffrey the color of Sansa's hair. "Joffrey accept Jaime's help," Cersei demanded.

"I accept," he said weakly.

"Tie him up," she said to Jorah, "and take his weapons."

With Joffrey tended to, she stared down at the beach. "Are you going to invite me up?"

"You brought ladders, put one of them up to the wall and I'll climb down."

Her descent was slow. She was cautious, expecting one of the men holding the ladder to move it, or for someone to fire an arrow into her back, but none of that happened.

On solid ground, the ladder remained but the men holding it returned to their posts. Without delay she turned on the Lannister. "Are you ready then?"

He smiled wide. "Just like that?"

"Are we supposed to pray or talk about our feelings first?"

"This doesn't have to happen," Robert tried from a few yards away.

She glared at him with hate. "Oh yes it does and once your son has paid for his crimes, you're next."

"Get on with it!" Robert commanded furiously.

She turned to Jaime and watched him draw a beautiful sword. She held her arakh in one hand and twirled it dramatically while she waited for his first move. He swung at her and she nearly laughed, a child could have avoided that strike. She danced away and swiped at his outside leg. He got his sword down just in time to deflect the blow, but his wide eyes made it clear that he understood. It wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

For weeks, she'd been building up her stamina for precisely this reason. The King Slayer was one of the best swordsman to ever draw breath and she needed to defeat him. Over and over they challenged each other. He'd get the upper hand for an instant, then she would counter. He certainly lived up to his reputation. The murmuring of the onlookers made it clear the fight had everyone's attention.

She had the honor of drawing first blood. After jumping over a slice that would have cut through both her knees his sword was too low to recover in time and she pushed her arakh into his upper arm. She could tell instantly she'd gotten through the steel. It wasn't his sword arm, but it was better than nothing.

He cursed and backed away, dabbing at the wound with his fingers while she circled him. "You're good," he said, "who taught you?"

"You could meet him, if Robert hadn't killed him." She swung her arakh in an overhead motion and immediately regretted it. She was too clumsy and he took advantage. A big boot hit her in the chest, sending her flying backward. As she skidded along the ground she realized that if he hadn't kicked quite so hard, she wouldn't have had the chance to recover. As it was, she was on one knee when the sword came down. The curve of her arakh held the steel away from her, and the battle for control began. Each of them had two hands on their weapons. Grunting with effort he leaned forward and she pushed back with everything she had.

With his sword inching closer and closer to her, she knew something had to change. Taking a risk, she removed one hand from the handle of her arakh and was immediately in even more danger as Jaime took advantage. Her free hand went for her dagger. She felt around for it wildly and she feared she wouldn't get to it in time. The bite of the steel against her cheek had her gritting her teeth and hissing. That was going to leave a mark. She got her fingers around the dagger and yanked it free. Jaime's sword had her almost completely flat, it was now or never. With all her energy, she pushed the sword away, and thrust the dagger. Jaime hadn't seen what was happening until it was too late. She plunged it into his thigh, right up to the hilt and then twisted with all her might. He screamed and in his anger swung wildly. Hurt or not, he was still strong as an ox and skilled like few she'd ever faced. She managed to deflect the worst of it, but took a small gash across the back of her hand. Her grip loosened as a result so she switched the arakh to her other hand to compensate. Jaime noticed the change and adjusted his pose.

They fought like that for what felt like hours but was likely only minutes. Both bleeding, both tired, Arya with one weakened hand, Jaime one damaged leg. When the end came it was really rather anti-climactic. She'd taken to moving from side to side, noticing that the Lannister had trouble pivoting on his injured leg. He soldiered through until he couldn't anymore and he stumbled. He tried to recover but it was pointless. A swat at his legs, didn't get through the armor, but was enough to unsteady him further. Arya heard who she could only assume was his sister yelling for him from behind as he fell. "Yield or I'll finish it!" she said as the cut to her face burned in the sun.

"I yield and you kill my nephew," he said grimacing in pain.

"You don't yield I kill you, then I have my men kill Joffrey," she said speaking loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Wait!" the King objected in his deepest voice. "You've proved your point. Now what do you want?"

She shook her head and scoffed at his ignorance. "I didn't come here to prove anything to you. I came because you kept sending assassins to try and murder my wife."

"Wife?" Cersei repeated. "You can't be serious. They really do things differently…"

"Woman shut your mouth!" Robert demanded. "I told your father I wouldn't send any other assassins, you and the Targaryen can live in peace."

"Her name is Daenerys."

"Daenerys then. I told Ned I won't try to harm her ever again."

"And I told my father I could never trust a word you said."

"So where does that leave us?"

"I'm due justice. The Gods have found Joffrey guilty for his crimes against Sansa. Either you fight me, or I'll take what I'm owed."

When he realized she was serious his expression changed before her eyes. "You want to fight me?" he said slowly as if he didn't believe it.

"In the Old Way, me against you. No more champions, just two people with a dispute. No one else needs to die."

Even with additional time Robert seemed unable to comprehend what she was proposing. "How do you think this ends?"

She felt obligated to answer truthfully. "Likely with both of us dead, preferably you first."

"What of Joffrey?" Cersei asked.

"Robert wins, I'll release him. I win, he dies," she proposed.

"I can't fight you…" he started to say.

"Why not? I'm already injured, and you're old, I'd say that's a fair fight."

"Kill her Robert, for Joffrey."

It was a foolish mistake. She turned her back on her enemies. Looking up to the wall where she knew Daenerys would be, she yelled, "Missandei could you ask the Khaleesi to throw down a shield please?"

The voice that followed was working hard not to sound amused and it wasn't Missandei's. "What's wrong? Afraid to ask me yourself?"

She locked eyes with the woman she loved. "Actually, I figure at this point, I'm just as likely to get a spear thrown in my direction, as a shield."

The shield fell to her right and off to her left seconds later, a spear. Arya chuckled. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Looking at Daenerys gave her the advanced warning she needed. The expression of horror she wore made it obvious what was happening behind her back. She dove but felt the arrow enter her back just before she hit the ground. The strike was low, just above her ass and if the pain was any indictor it was deep.

With the wall for help she got onto her feet. "So much for honor," she spat before she yelled to the Dothraki to prepare. War horns and shrieking made it difficult to hear anything else.

"I had nothing to do with that," Robert asserted quickly.

With her bloodstained arakh in one hand she reached back with the other and freed the arrow, letting it fall to the ground without looking at it. "Your army fire a lot of arrows without your approval, your Grace?" she asked sarcastically.

She made her way to the shield and picked it up, holding it as best she could in her weakened hand. She stalked forward until she was just steps from where the King Slayer sat beaten in the sand. "I didn't order that," Robert tried again. He wasn't lying but she didn't care.

She scanned the faces in front of her looking for the culprit. When she landed on Cersei she knew she'd found the right one. She watched from her horse with a sick little smile on her lips. "You're going to regret that," Arya promised the mother.

"I doubt it. You can barely stand."

She nodded as if the Lannister was right. "Arya don't do anything..." Robert began.

It was too late. "Kill the boy!" she yelled to her people in their own tongue. She sidestepped slightly to make sure the Queen had a good view and together they watched as Joffrey was tossed, alive over the wall to the beach below. Taking advantage of the chaos, her people readied themselves for war, both on the walls and inside them.

"No!" Cersei screamed as she realized what was happening.

Next to her Jaime tried to stand but his wound left him with a grave disadvantage. "You can thank your sister for this," she said. He looked up into her grey eyes with a knowing smile before she brought the arakh down against him.

Behind her the gates swung open and thousands of Dothraki rushed out on horseback. Arya would wager the Westerosi had never seen anything quite like it. They expected her men to hide behind the walls, to wait until they climbed and fought there way in, but the Dothraki weren't interested in anymore delays. They'd come a long way for this.

All around the island the fighting was happening in earnest. Arya's shield got plenty of work while she backed away from Robert and into the fray with her men. She dropped it as soon as she could, feeling more comfortable without it. Bodies fell all around her and she knew many more were going to die.

As she fought beside her warriors she could see more than one of them smiling as they killed. They really did enjoy this. They might have lost, if the superior numbers of Dothraki hadn't overrun the archer's positions fast enough. Standing on the shore they they had no where to flee to. Once the arrows stopped, she felt more confident in their victory.

With a swing of her arakh she cut a man's neck and hot blood spurted out onto her skin. Beside her Kelo was doing battle with three heavily armored men, when a fourth speared him in the side. He fell, coughing blood and Arya knew it was already over. Rather than tend to him, she did what her friend would want, she put herself in place to kill his murderers. With a war cry any Dothraki would be proud of, she killed the offenders one by one.

The gate had been closed after the Dothraki were let out to protect the women and children still inside. When she noticed out of the corner of her eye that it had been battered in, Arya hurried through the opening. Shoving the opponent she'd been fighting aside, she left him for someone else to kill.

The violence in the yard was just as fierce as it had been on the day they took Dragonstone from Stannis, maybe worse. And just like on that day, she received an injury on her way to the castle. She brought her arakh down hard, but the man she'd bested lunged forward with his dying breath and swiped steel across her stomach. He didn't cut deep, he wasn't strong enough, if he had been she would have died for sure. There was a lot of blood and two flaps of skin to hold closed but no obvious internal damage.

"Fuck!" she complained as she dodged an axe and impaled the axeman. Ripping at the sleeve of her shirt she pressed the fabric into her stomach wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. Her yell startled a horse and Arya was motivated to move quicker when she realized it was Robert's horse she was looking at, without Robert.

The door swung open and she took off the head of the soldier standing inside. She knew where Daenerys would be. They'd decided days earlier the best place for her and Missandei to hide, once the castle was full of Robert's men.

Arya killed seven on the way to the right room and maimed others, moving on before their bodies fell. Nothing mattered more than Daenerys, not even her thirst for blood. She arrived to find Jorah doing battle with the Hound, while Kovarro and Harvin were together trying to best his brother. It was widely known the Cleganes hated each other, but Arya knew you didn't need to like or respect someone to fight beside them. All that was necessary was a common enemy. Big purses of gold usually helped too.

The door was being protected by three of Robert's guard, and the man himself stood in the center of room, facing off with Daenerys and Missandei. Most of the Dothraki were dead, along with a large number of Robert's personal guard. The advisor had her dagger pressed flat against the underside of her forearm and Daenerys held the arakh Arya'd given her as though it were a natural extension of her arm. "You must be the Targaryen. The one who caused all this."

"Stay where you are," Daenerys insisted.

From his back, he raised a large Warhammer. "I've been waiting for this for a long time."

Arya needed to get in that room, no matter the cost. With a dagger loosely gripped in one hand and her arakh in the other she threw herself into the doorway, and onto the men positioned there. The moves were quick. A dagger to the eye, a swipe across a man's gut. She felt the burn of a cut down her arm, but refused to drop her weapon.

By the time the final guard was dead, Robert was through talking. She hadn't seen what happened but could surmise. Daenerys's arakh was across the room, likely from an attempted block of Robert's massive hammer. The King was muttering curses as he shook out his right hand. Missandei's dagger was wet with fresh blood and she was positioned in front of Daenerys protectively.

Behind her back, a group of Dothraki flooded in after her, stepping over the bodies and killing anyone who was clinging to life. Many of her people were injured, some gravely, but every last one was holding a weapon soaked in blood. She was proud.

"Tell your men to put down the swords or none of them leave alive!"

Robert turned away from the Dragon and looked genuinely surprised to see her there. "You Starks come from hearty stalk."

Robert seemed uncertain. With the aid of two additional Dothraki not even one as skilled as the Hound could fend off Jorah's assault and he fell. In his death, Robert seemed to see the outcome if he continued. "We surrender!" he screamed. "Put down your blades men. It's over."

Off to the right, Arya could see Harvin's bloodied body. In his hand, he still clutched the arakh that had cut the Mountain's throat. "Watch him!" she instructed the others, as she hurried to her Blood Rider's side. Tears burned in her eyes as she assessed his injuries. They were fatal. She took a knee on the slippery stones and grabbed his hand. He squeezed it as best he could, but it was little more than a twitch of his fingers against hers. "Its okay," she told him, "the Khaleesi and I are safe. You did your job well. The Khal waits for you."

Taking a deep breath, she said a prayer she hoped some God would hear, any God. Closing her hand in the tightest fist possible she pressed it against her forehead, smearing blood. She'd caused this. So many men died following her. It needed to be worth it. With renewed purpose, she picked up her arakh and stood as tall as she could.

"Arya, I'm so sorry," Daenerys supplied.

She shook her head and swiped at the tears leaking from her eyes. "Later. This needs to end."

Robert had been disarmed. He stood there in armor that barely contained his stomach and he looked ridiculous. "I can't believe your father raised such a woman."

"I can't believe my father spent most of his adult life in service to you." She staggered over to Daenerys. "You girls ok?"

"Young love," Robert mocked.

"Shut up. The only reason you're not dead yet is because I care more about making sure they're okay than I do about killing you."

"Do it then."

She looked to Kovarro, her one surviving Blood Rider. "Give him a weapon," she instructed in two languages.

Robert's mouth hung open like a fish. "What?"

"Would you rather fight me without one?" she asked, annoyed.

He looked at her battered body and then up to meet her eye. "You mean to fight me?"

"It is what I came here to do."

With a grim smile, Robert took back his hammer and pushed away the Dothraki who handed it to him. Against a weapon that big, injured as she was, she knew instinctively what her strategy should be. Move fast, let him tire himself out, and avoid the force of that hammer no matter what.

As she did with most of her battles, she let the enemy swing first. She was slower than she would've liked but she was still able to avoid it. The whole room felt like it was vibrating as he pulled the hammer back into the air.

The second attempt was much like the first. She avoided the blow only barely. The difference was that this time she swung her arakh, cutting into the underside of Robert's wrist. She smiled when she heard him curse. It'd be harder for him to grip that hammer now.

Taking a shield off one of his men's bodies Robert threw it in her direction. She put her hands up to block and took the steel in the side, breaking several of her ribs in the process. Air was at a premium and she knew if she wanted to win Arya had to end this fight now. With that in mind she did what she could to wrap her arms and legs around him, pushing him back. Without meaning to she inadvertently guided him toward Daenerys and Missandei. With the hammer pinned between them, he couldn't hit her, but the reprieve would be short. He would throw her off soon and when he did she'd be at his mercy. The glistening of Valyrian steel caught her eye and she looked over Robert's shoulder to see Missandei holding it out to her. She shoved it into the back of his neck without ceremony. He tossed her off then, and Arya slid across the floor until her head was stopped by a wall. She saw two of everything as Robert limped forward, reached behind his head and began spitting up blood.

"Missandei," she said without even trying to get up. "You just saved my life."

"A favor you've done for me once or twice," she replied.

"Thank you."

She got to her feet and used her arakh to support her battered body. "Your King is dead," she screamed, speaking to anyone who could hear her. "You can join him, or you can go home to your wives and children. Decide."

Arya was glad no one challenged her because she didn't think she could fight anyone else. Daenerys kept trying to talk to her, following after her, fussing over her injuries, but she wouldn't stop. "Where are you going?"

"I need to find Kelo's body. He died on the beach."

Daenerys no longer objected as they sought out one specific body among the thousands. As she went she instructed the prisoners be taken to the boats and sent back to King's Landing. Mirak found her not long after she'd finished saying a prayer for Kelo. "You must come."

She leaned on Daenerys shamelessly, struggling to breathe as she followed after the intelligent young man. Cersei Lannister sat with her son's head in her lap. His body twisted in an unnatural position, devastated by the impact with the ground. Beside him, his uncle lay, having been dragged from where he died. Arya had assumed that Cersei went to the ships and fled when the fighting started but she'd been wrong.

"She say nothing, only cry."

Arya nodded to confirm she understood. "Robert's dead, the survivors are being returned to the mainland. If you want I'll have Joffrey and Jaime's bodies placed aboard a ship for you."

"Robert's dead, but you still don't have King's Landing. You still don't have the throne."

"I never wanted the throne, you can have it."

Her words caused Cersei's hand to freeze in Joffrey's hair. "What?"

"I said, I didn't come for the throne, you're welcome to it. I came because Robert kept sending assassins to kill us. I came because he refused to leave us in peace."

She scoffed. "Peace? Look around you, you don't want peace."

"You're right," Arya admitted. "It was a poor choice of words. The point is tonight I'll be sailing home and you can take the throne for yourself, give it to one of your children or let the vultures fight for it, I really don't give a shit."

At last Cersei looked away from Joffrey and into Arya's stormy eyes. "You killed my son, you killed my brother and you don't want the throne?"

"I did. I also killed your husband, but you don't seem too broken up about that."

"You're a monster!" the Queen said with hate oozing from every word.

"A monster who easily could have killed all three of your children, but didn't. Jaime yielded in our match, I intended to let him live and Joffrey would have died a much cleaner death if you hadn't tried to ambush me while my back was turned. If you're looking for someone to blame, try a mirror."

"I blame you," she said with conviction.

"That's fine," Arya told her. "You can blame me all you like. You can hate me, you can curse me to the Gods, you can pray for my death. You can dream of it or fantasize all the different ways it might happen, I don't care. But whatever you do, I suggest you keep in mind what happened when a ruler of the Seven Kingdoms tried to kill Daenerys Targaryen. Remember how tens of thousands of men died, remember Joffrey and Jaime and remember Robert and be smarter than them. Know this Lannister, you're free to hate me until your dying day, but if you make me come back to this rancid pit I swear I'll be far less generous."

With that she left Cersei to her grieving. Daenerys was there to help her, help she desperately needed. "Can I tend to your wounds now?"

"On the ship. I want to go home."

R-C

Author's Note: There is it folks. This story turned out much longer than I planned, with many more moving parts. Like I said at the start, I wrote this one for myself, but I hope at least some people got through it, and appreciated it.

Thank you for reading,

Russell Craig