Two weeks had passed, and fortunately, no marriage proposals came her way.

Although, she remained entirely busy, spending most her time learning how to be a lady and ruminating about her life.
Whenever silence fell upon her, she couldn't seem to turn off her mind.

Had she made the wrong decision in coming here? Why was Clegane distant from her? Did she trust confiding in anyone about her fears? If so, who would she choose?

Lana stared at the painted table, getting lost in her personal issues even when faced with war decisions.

Lana glanced over to her sister, who was facing the ocean by the balcony. In truth, Dany had faced more hard personal decisions than Lana had. Despite that, Dany was still able to say let go of Daario for the sake of her crown.

There was no way Dany would support Lana's decision to abandon her role for her heart.

Especially not now, when allies died like flies.

In the last two weeks, Asha Greyjoy had been taken captive by her uncle Euron, who now owed allegiance to Cersei. At least I won't have to marry that fucker. Probably would have gutted him on our wedding night.

Cersei had also stolen the daughters of Ellaria Sand. Fortunately, Ellaria was able to trade Myrcella, having kept the poor girl alive after killing Tristain.

But Cersei was a cold bitch, and the trade was cut short – Ellaria and her newly rescued daughters were attacked on their way out. The last Lana heard, Ellaria, her daughters, and Asha were all chained up in the dungeons.

Dragonstone had received that news only two days ago.
Highgarden remained as the only alliance.

"I could take Drogon and ride him to Cersei. I wouldn't even need all the dragons," Dany said to Lana, the only person in the room with the queen.

"You have to choose, sister. Do you want to be a conqueror, or do you want to brokerage a peace?" Lana asked, echoing their prior discussions that had just taken place. Varys cautioned restraint, Tyrion seemed stuck in the middle, and Olenna wanted to burn it all down. Jorah mostly supported Dany, and Selmy just stood by - as a true queensgaurd.

"I want my throne without looking like a mad queen," Dany said, turning around, the sun gently touching her hair.

Lana shook her head with her hands out. "History will be what you make it, your grace. Aegon conquered Westeros, broke up everything that they had, and history remembers him well. I bet you all the wine in our cellars that when Aegon took the seven kingdoms, they did not enjoy his actions."

Dany straightened her shoulders and stared for a long time at Lana before looking down, saying with a soft voice, "I want the people to love me like they did in Essos. I fear they will panic when they see the dragon fire and when the towers fall on innocent homes. All it takes is one wrong move, and I am considered the wrong queen. One move, Lana. I cannot afford that."

"I'm going to be crass, sister, but who gives a shit? Cersei just got everything. She got her daughter-"

"Myrcella was poisoned, it seems," Dany interrupted with a dark tone.

Lana didn't blink as she glared at her sister. "What?"

"Ellaria must have given Myrcella a slow acting poison. Varys got word that Myrcella is dead."

Lana darkly laughed, shaking her head as she jutted her jaw. "Oh great, so now Cersei'll be more pissed. And, we just lost two alliances, while having three fucking dragons-"

"Language, please," Dany said, holding up a hand, her voice quivering from either anger or emotion.

Lana sighed, trying to control herself. This was all terrible. If this were a mission, and she was paid to take the throne, she'd go for the nuclear option now – dragon fire.

"Your grace, please stop worrying about the ruled. Their love is fickle, and even if you give everything, they really don't care. They have their lives to live. That's all they want to do," Lana said with a light laugh, thinking to the villagers she met.

She continued, "I know. I came upon a village and lived with them for a small time when I was here on my mission a few months ago. They were tired of marching armies more than anything, and they just wanted to get the chance to plant some roots. Literally and metaphorically. Dragons prevent the marching of armies Daenerys. Dragons mean you target the lords, ladies, kings and queens. Not the peasants. And it's the peasants that you rule, not the other noblemen of these lands."

"So I should take the throne? With dragons?" Dany asked, an excitement coming to her. Lana could see a glint in her eyes that suggested Dany knew this was the course she wanted.

Lana sighed, darting her gaze between Dany's eyes. Lana looked down to her clean nails. "I am not an advisor, your grace."

"Perhaps you should be."

Lana smiled and scratching her neck as she said, "I can help you think things out, Daenerys, but I am not a war advisor."

"Tell me your raw opinion, Lana. If I weren't here, and you were speaking honestly with yourself. What would you do? For our family's throne?" she asked, her eyes pained.

"You've gathered a few houses in your name. Take the throne while you have some support. You'll never have it all while not completely conquering. Aegon burned down Harrenhal for his support. Without doing something similar, you have to take what you can," Lana said, running her hand over the table as she spoke.

"But what of the north? Jon Snow is coming, and if he doesn't bend the knee – I can't have that. I can't just have Highgarden."

"That's not true."

"Spare me the niceties," Dany said impatiently.

Lana pursed her lips. Her sister wanted the truth, so she'd give it. "It's not a nicety. It's a fact," Lana said sternly. "Aegon had no one when he conquered. We don't need anyone either."

Daenerys stared at Lana, unblinking, before she finally looked down to the table. Dany paced before glancing back to Lana with a nod. "I need to be alone."

"Of course, your grace."

Lana exited the room, walking behind the giant hearth and opening the doors behind it. Clegane immediately followed her as she walked. Lana had no idea what to do. They were here, in Dragonstone, and Dany had three large dragons, an army, and support.

And yet Cersei was still on the throne.

Dany did have a point, however. If Jon Snow didn't bend the knee, then it was a sign that the kingdoms essentially rejected her.

Then again, what if Jon did bend the knee? That was the entire north...

Lana wondered if she, herself, should just take a dragon and burn it all down, and then the people could hate her, not Dany. Lana didn't give a shit. They'd get over it a few decades from now, anyway.

As her mind turned at the speed of a potter's wheel, Lana thought to address Clegane. The name Sandor was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't feel entirely comfortable calling him Sandor again. Especially since there was a distinct withdrawal from him ever since Tyrion had a talk with her.

Even worse, they hadn't been intimate since the brotherhood.

She hated that. She also hated that she realized how much comfort he actually gave her. Which meant letting him go would cut deeper than she thought.

"You know Cersei well, Clegane."

"Wish I didn't," he said, not missing a beat.

Lana smiled, her serious thoughts interrupted as she had to hold back a laugh. They began their walk through the tall, grand halls of Dragonstone, and Lana couldn't have appreciated his company more. "Should we just go in and kill her and be done with it? Or is negotiation going to work at all?"

"If it were me, I would take the throne when she least expects it, or in a way she can't counter. She has always been a mad woman, and with all of her children dead, she grows more extreme. They've got a lot of wildfire in King's Landing from the Mad King. Cersei would not be above using it."

Lana frowned, looking around the beautifully carved stone as they walked down the stairs. "Like blowing it all up?"

"She's the kind of person that if she can't play with something, then nobody can. She's like my brother."

Lana tucked that away, feeling special that she knew something so private about this man. "So, there's no point in going to war with her."

"Probably not."

"Then I don't know what to advise my sister."

He let out a long sigh. "All I'll say is if a giant fucking dragon came burning down the building I was in, I would leave and not look back. If I were a peasant watching that shit, I'd also leave and not look back."

"Then how do we get her out, if not with dragon fire?"

"You take the three flaming dragons and not give a shit what others think," he said. "Tywin Lannister would have done it by now if he had them. And if he were here now, staring your queen in the face, I bet you more gold than I could carry, that he would have surrendered to her dragons. Cersei is just being a bitch."

Lana thought on that as they approached another flight of stairs, this time going up to her wing. Clegane's temporary, heavy armor clinked as he walked.

"Tywin?" she asked after thinking over what he said.

"He liked to win, at all costs. Can't win against three dragons, no matter who you are."

Lana remained silent as she thought about everything. Sandor didn't add anything else to the conversation. Before she knew it, they arrived at her chambers, the salty air gently wafting in the wind as she faced the ocean.

Like every night, this was where she and Clegane parted. And like every night, it was done in uncomfortable silence.

A handmaid helped Lana out of her dress and into her nightly gown, brushing her hair, and taking away clothes that needed washing. By the time Lana was alone, the sun was nearly at the horizon.

She sat by the balcony, the ocean breeze in her face. This wouldn't be her room in the long run, as Dany had the largest room that faced the small bit of forest on the island. As much as that appealed to Lana more, she wouldn't complain if this was all she got. It was a magnificent room with tall ceilings, rugs, four balconies, and a tub for bathing.

She spun wine around in her chalice as she looked to the pastel colors of the sky that painted the country of Westeros, calming her thoughts to give her mind some rest.

Lana heard the changing of the guards outside and looked to the door, the torches and hearth now brighter than the world outside.
It meant that Sandor would be relieved.

Lana grabbed a fur blanket and wrapped it around her as she felt a dramatic drop in temperature with the sun going down.

It was colder than normal.

All Lana could think about was sitting in this room with Clegane. She imagined they wouldn't say much. They'd just sit there, together, enjoying the other's company and warmth.

He was also right. He was right more times than wrong, about nearly everything. The thing that she hated the most was that he was right about was their ranks. In the end, her being a lady just didn't work with a guard, not even a knight.

Did that really make him lose interest in her so quickly?

It felt like he was already planning to leave her, as if he was settled on the thought and that she was nothing more than a purse of gold to collect from on the monthly.

Was he just here for the armor? To get closer to Gregor?

Lana sighed. Something had changed between them, and the unknown of it was eating at her mind.

With the war growing closer, she honestly needed to let it go. She needed to focus on what she could control.

A small snowflake passed by, and she watched it with wonder, completely pulled from all of her thoughts.

It was a reminder of the war in the north.

Winter was here.

Sandor sweated from the heat, despite winter officially being here. About three weeks ago they had a snowy night, but it had been warmer since then, and armor always made it feel twenty degrees hotter.

Either way, he kept his distance from Lana, always watching her from afar. It had been over a month since they arrived, and Sandor felt it was the right decision.

For a moment, however, he had faltered. But when the King in the north arrived to mine for dragonglass, Clegane was reaffirmed in his choice.

Sandor couldn't stop thinking about what the fuck was in the north. What was so important some priestess sent Lana, alone, to Westeros? Why did the Brotherhood abandon their livelihood for what was north? Why did Jon fucking Snow not give two shits about the wars here?

What had that bastard seen?

Clegane still had yet to get his valerian armor, although the blacksmith had arrived a week ago. Out of everything, getting some fresh, valerian steel would make all of this worth it.

Sandor stared at the dark sky, waiting for the morning sunrise as he pondered about the wars to come. He always got up early to change stations and preferred to watch the morning sun. It was the only time of peace for himself.

For himself. Ever since Joffrey, he had been infected with the idea of going his own way and becoming his own man.

It seemed even now, after getting a new line of work, guarding a woman he cared for, he still couldn't shake the temptation to do what was best for him.

After Lana's talk with Tyrion over a month ago, Sandor fully accepted his time here would not be for forever, which meant why the fuck should he indulge in Lana if he knew it would amount to nothing?

Plus, not chasing after his brother dampened something in him.
He could always fuck Lana and get that enjoyment out of her, while he wasted his time waiting to face Gregor.

But there was a facet to all of this that bothered him – he enjoyed Lana more than just thinking about fucking her.

He wanted her as his, and he didn't give two shits about what Tyrion and the others wanted.

She was dangerous in that way. He had never grown this close to another woman, as he had no interest in that horseshit. It made men behave foolishly; many knights dedicating their entire lives to a woman they'd never bed.

The thought of Lana having a husband that he'd be forced to serve made Sandor realize this was all as stupid as the songs everyone sang. He would not stand by, day in and day out, watching her raise another man's lineage while Clegane grew old.

He enjoyed his little fun with her, although not as much as he hoped, but he needed focus back on what he wanted before she ever appeared.

I'm coming for you brother. Maybe we can die together and be done with it.

The sky over the ocean was finally painted with soft morning colors, giving visibility to their world. It was then that he noticed ships coming into the harbor, with Greyjoy sigils and white flags being waved.

He grinded his teeth, his heart pumping with adrenaline at the sight.

Were they surrendering?

He gripped the pommel of his sword at the thought of Euron coming here to brokerage a peace.

If they were really going to marry Lana to Euron fucking Greyjoy, Sandor would kill him. Without question. He snarled his upper lip at the thought of getting to cut that fucker in two before he could lay a hand on her.

Clegane wasn't willing to kill Joffrey for the little bird, but he'd sure as fuck kill Euron to spare Lana from that fate.

Clegane watched on and saw that the ships had something giant on them with sails thrown over.

Then, the white flags were dropped into the ocean, and the sails pulled off.

He squinted and could have sworn he saw fucking trebuchets on them. Who the fuck put trebuchets on a ship? Greyjoys. If any mad fuckers could do it, it would be them.

Who would also attack a castle with dragons? There weren't enough ships for a siege.

Unless it wasn't a siege. His next thought was that Cersei was pissed and childless. She did idiotic things when she was angry. Last time she didn't get her way, she blew up the sept and enraged the populace, but the mad bitch still didn't care.

She never cared.

What if this was nothing more than anger?

"Are those trebuchets?" a soldier from Highgarden asked, placing a hand on the stone rails as he squinted.

"Fucking looks like it," Clegane said, his eyes wide and ready for a fight.

"Why? That doesn't make any sense."

Then, one of the trebuchets launched, a rock flying in the air in slow motion until it smacked into the castle, sending a slight tremble throughout the walls. It landed higher than where he stood, which meant this entire area was in danger. "It's not supposed to. Get everyone away from the ocean side!"

Sandor took off. Terror gripped the castle as many panicked and ran. Clegane hurried up the stairs, skipping steps, which was a fucking feat with the chainmail and plated armor.

He didn't have the luxury to waste time.

Lana's room faced the ocean.