Something was terribly wrong.

Brynhildr only stopped once to look back at Daario, who jumped to retrieve his clothes, before scurrying close to Shyra and Osric, both of whom looked as though they might be sick.

"Did he say what happened?" asked Brynhildr, heart beating heavy in her chest with worry. "When did– just now?"

"He just arrived," said Shyra, though she side-eyed Osric as if not knowing what else she should say. "It– well, you need to see for yourself, Commander. He's not well."

No, certainly he wasn't well. Not if he was returning out of the blue after three years away from them. She wrung her hands together as they moved into the great hall, filled with concerned Valkyries who surrounded Oberyn as if worried some harm would come if they stepped away.

She'd never seen him so... broken. He sat at one of their tables holding his head in his hands. He was shaking like a leaf and she could hear his faint cries. Brynhildr ran to him, falling to her knees and holding onto his arms. "Oberyn," she said as soothingly as she could. "Oberyn, it's Mineri. What's the matter? Tell me, please."

Carefully, she pulled his hands away from his face. He'd clearly been crying for a while. His eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them. There was no light within, and all around was red and puffy. His face was stained with tears, and for once, he did not smile.

"Oberyn," she pleaded, cupping his face. "Oberyn, talk to me, please. Who has hurt you?"

He struggled to speak. "I almost collapsed at the door..." He muttered like a madman, looking around as if not believing she was there, not believing he was there. "I wasn't sure if we'd make it, we were being pursued. As soon as we were able, we moved. The days at sea were terrible. I thought we would be killed. But I had to get us here, I had to make sure..."

Daario came to a stop in the doorway, watching Brynhildr caress the back of Oberyn's head. "Please," she said, making him look at head. "Oberyn, what's happened? I don't understand."

"They killed Elia," said Oberyn, staring at her yet acting as though he was seeing nothing. A silent dread hung in the room. How could that be? How could that have happened? Elia was supposed to be safe in King's Landing, despite being considered Aerys's hostage. How could the rebels have succeeded?

"Oh, gods," whispered Brynhildr. Her own eyes began to well up with tears. "Oberyn, I am so, so sorry."

"The Lannisters–" He stopped and let out a mirthless laugh. "Tywin Lannister. And his... his... mad dog, The Mountain. He raped her. He murdered her. He tore her apart. They say her body was almost unrecognizable. He bashed in her skull. They killed her children. Little Rhaenys, little Aegon, my sweet niece and nephew. They were babes. Just babes. And they sacked the city and they killed them all."

The shield-maidens began to murmur amongst themselves. Oberyn let out an angry sob and covered his face again. "She's dead, my sister is dead."

She didn't know what to say to him. Brynhildr wrapped her arms tight around him, laying his head on her shoulder. Her voice broke, "Oberyn, I'm so sorry." She looked back at Shyra, who gestured to the back of their great hall. Brynhildr furrowed her brows in confusion, and Shyra gestured again.

Past the line of Valkyries guarding Oberyn was a smaller group. An older man– a knight, it seemed– seated with a young silver-haired boy who held in his arms a babe that could not have been more than a few days old. Brynhildr slowly began to pull away from Oberyn, unsure at first who these children were. If Rhaenys and Aegon were dead–?

"Promise me," begged Oberyn between sobs, catching her arm before she could get too far. "Promise me you'll take care of them. I didn't know where else to bring them, I didn't know where else we could go. I knew they would be safe here. I knew you would never let anything happen to them."

Brynhildr drew a deep breath. The young boy looked at her, purple eyes shining with tears under the dim torches. The babe began to wail, the knight with them shushing her as best as he could. "Princess," pleaded the knight, guiding the boy in rocking his sister. "Princess, please, be calm."

She stepped slowly towards the children, the shield-maidens clearing her a path. Brynhildr looked at them, the boy scared and angry, eyes darting around nervously. His whole body tensed when she stopped beside him. The knight looked up as he failed to quiet the squalling babe, "Ser Willem Darry. To serve you, Commanded Lothbrok."

He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Prince Viserys of the House Targaryen, brother of Prince Rhaegar, son of King Aerys, and rightful heir to the Iron Throne. And the babe, Princess Daenerys Stormborn. Her mother— our sweet Queen Rhaella— did not live to meet her. Sanctuary... we beg you, please, sanctuary."

A tear rolled down her face as she reached down to take the crying girl from Viserys. Shakily, she adjusted her hold, brushing a hand over the babe's forehead, fingers drifting down her little nose. She stopped crying at once and her brother heaved a shaky sigh, covering his face and scrunching up his nose as if to stop himself from crying, too.

"Sweet girl," whispered Brynhildr, eyes wide when the babe reached a pudgy hand up to grab her finger. "Sweet, sweet girl..."

"They're all that's left of the Targaryen dynasty," she heard Oberyn say weakly. "Please... I need you to protect them. I am begging you."

She couldn't have said no even if she wanted to. "You will be safe here," she said, looking down at young Viserys. "You don't have to run anymore." She looked up at her Valkyries. "Shyra, Osric, please ask the servants to clean my room at once. Allyria, Terysa, take some torches and go to our dock at once. Bring me enough wood to build a cradle. The rest of you..." She recalled Oberyn mentioning they were being pursued. "Double the patrol. No one we do not know enters this house. Anything that seems suspicious, you tell me immediately. These children are under our protection and not a hair on their heads will be harmed."

They began to disperse. Brynhildr tried to hand Daenerys to Ser Willem to fetch them some food, but the babe immediately began to cry when she tried to set her down. Brynhildr ended up continuing to hold her as she went into the kitchens, awkwardly carrying with her a jug of water. Daario came forward to help her instead, offering platters for Viserys and Ser Willem to eat while Brynhildr kept rocking the sleeping babe, so innocent despite how fussy she was with anyone else.

Once Viserys had eaten, she put a hand around his shoulder and led him upstairs, leaving Oberyn alone in the great hall. The servants had cleared from the table all the fruit and candy, putting the couches together to serve as a bed. "Here, you'll sleep on my bed," offered Brynhildr, leaning down to lift him onto it. With one hand, she moved the pillows around, forming a border so he wouldn't fall down. "Is there... anything else you need?"

"No," he said in a small voice. He began to tug anxiously at his fingers. "I'm scared."

She sat at the edge of the bed. "Were you there at the castle when–?"

"No. My father sent my mother and I to Dragonstone. All I remember is... she was screaming. She wouldn't stop screaming." He scrunched up his face. "And then there was Dany. They gave her to me, they begged me to try and keep her quiet..." He stopped speaking and turned away from her. "Good night."

"I'll be in the great hall if you need anything," said Brynhildr, unsure how to comfort him. "Try and get some rest."

She went back down, Daenerys still asleep. Ser Willem and Daario were still waiting there, seated at a different table while Oberyn continued to cry. "What happened?" asked Brynhildr.

"I was guarding them at Dragonstone," said Ser Willem. "King Aerys sent them away once he knew it was unsafe. First came the raven that Rhaegar was killed at the Battle of the Trident. Prince Viserys became Prince of Dragonstone. Then we got the letter that Aerys, Princess Elia, and the children were dead. Queen Rhaella went into labor. We'd already been told that if anything went wrong, we had to come to Braavos as quickly as we could."

"You managed to smuggle them out, then."

"Barely. There was a storm that night. Most of the Targaryen fleet was destroyed. We were told Stannis Baratheon was about to launch an assault on Dragonstone. I found my four most loyal men and had them help me. Everyone else in the garrison would have handed the Prince and Princess over, but we got the ship as fast as we could and we sailed the hellout of there. Prince Oberyn had already been making his way here; our ships met at sea. We abandoned the Targaryen boat and rowed to the Dornish one. After that, we didn't stop until we were here. The Prince said that as long as we made it to Valkyrie Keep, King Robert's assassins could not hurt the children."

"No, they certainly won't," agreed Brynhildr, looking down at Daenerys, who pursed her lips as she slept. "We're a group of six-hundred strong and we have an understanding with the Sealord of Braavos and the Faceless Men. If any assassin of Robert's comes anywhere near... no, he could hire a Faceless Man and they would not dare to complete this assignment. They know we'd destroy the House of Black and White and lay waste to this city."

"Will Dorne make a move against his new king?" asked Daario. "The Stormcrows and the Valkyries together make over a thousand strong. We have ships–"

Oberyn shook his head. "No. No, my brother will not let Dorne sink into another war. He will bide his time, I know this. He'll build up what we need to avenge my sister and our attack will not be launched until we are ready." He gestured in the direction Brynhildr had taken Viserys. "My niece, young Princess Arianne, will be betrothed to Prince Viserys. KingViserys, really. His mother crowned him on Dragonstone. Given time, we will give him what he needs to retake the Iron Throne and lay waste to the Lannisters and the Baratheons."

"I met Robert," murmured Brynhildr. "I never... I never thought it would come to this. And Stannis... gods, Stannis. I offered him a chance to come and explore the world. He did not take it. Rhaegar... what happened to him?"

"Robert killed him," said Ser Willem. "Crushed his chest with a blow from his warhammer."

Brynhildr shut her eyes. "I sold Eddard Stark that warhammer. It was a gift for Robert becoming Lord of Storm's End."

"You could not have known the weapon would be used for such a thing," comforted Daario. "What about the King? What happened to him?"

"One of his Kingsguard killed him," said Ser Willem. "Young Jaime Lannister... Kingslayer. Stabbed him in the back and cut his throat. Sat on the Iron Throne and watched him bleed out, they say. Betrayed his own King, the swine."

It was much to think about, much Brynhildr hadn't expected. This was what she was fated to do? This was the dynasty she held in her fingers? This was the history she would change? She remembered the Seer in Kattegat telling her that just as she would kill kings and queens, so, too, would she raise them. Whatever this entailed, she knew for certain the children were staying with her. It sounded like more than she could bear, a burden she didn't understand.

She looked back down at the sleeping babe and she knew she could not deny it. How could she risk Daenerys's safety, or Viserys's safety? They were just children. Children who'd lost both their parents, who no longer had anything to their names. One boy who would never forget his mother's last moments, and one girl who would never know her.

She hadn't been certain she wanted to be a mother– she didn't know if she was ready for that. But she saw Oberyn's pain, she saw Viserys's fear, and she knew how much they needed her. Oberyn had trusted her with this, and she could not let any of them down.

"They'll be safe here," she whispered, pressing her finger gently against Daenerys's cheek as she puffed them up. "I will protect them. House them, feed them, train them. When it is time to avenge Princess Elia and her children, I will do whatever has to be done to see it so."

Oberyn finally forced himself to look up. He glanced at Daario first, saying weakly, "I remember you. From the pits in Meereen."

"I remember you, too," said Daario calmly. They couldn't have expected Oberyn to be very warm at the moment. "Mineri, I'll... return to my camp. I'll come back in the morning to see how things are."

"Thank you," she said, reaching out to catch his arm before he could go. Their eyes met and he gave her a nod of understanding; they couldn't have known this was going to happen. It didn't mean anything against him, only, that someone more vulnerable needed her and that she had to be there. Daario was no less important.

"Ser Willem," said Brynhildr once Daario was gone, "Please ask the guards at the door to show you to a room where you'll be comfortable. We'll speak again in the morrow."

He gave a nod and left. As she sat beside Oberyn, he lamented, "I am sorry for ruining whatever... you were up to."

"You've ruined nothing," she assured him. "Daario and I were testing feelings, same as you and I, at one point. Doesn't matter– I'm in no state to make a decision for anyone. All that matters right now are Viserys and Daenerys." She took his hand. "I'm so sorry. Truly... what happened to your sister was monstrous. And we will avenge her. We will avenge her children. We will see Viserys or Daenerys on the Iron Throne."

"I knew I could trust you with this," said Oberyn. "I knew you were the right person. I... I hope to be able to stay. At least for some months at a time. Longer, if my brother gives me leave to bring my daughters here. To remain here at all. I don't know what he needs from me yet."

"Whatever you need, I am here for that. I'll protect all of you."

He managed a weak smile. "I only hope that this will not ruin your happiness. I admit, I only... thought of what was best for the children. I knew I was saddling you with a great responsibility, one that might not make you happy—-"

"One I accept readily," she insisted. "My father once said... happiness is nothing. I can still find happiness while caring for them. I... I may not have been expecting it, but I will do what I can to manage it all. Whatever I find myself feeling for... others. You or Daario, you and Daario... it doesn't have to stop simply because of them. I've handled many things at once. I can... I can do this. This is what the gods brought me here to do. I feel it in my heart, Oberyn. So don't worry at all about my happiness. I am happy to do anything my gods deem me worthy of."

This affected him more than he must have wanted it to. He leaned his head onto his shoulder and began to cry again. Perhaps he felt relief that she was the right person for this task. Perhaps he felt despair knowing it had come to this. She did not budge. She simply held his hand, rubbing his palm until he finally felt well enough to find sleep.

It was a long night. Daenerys would sleep only if held by Brynhildr, which made it difficult for her to do anything else. She hadn't rested when morning came, but Daenerys was a perfect blur of energy, looking around and wiggling, accepting the goat's milk that Brynhildr had to feed her, for none of her Valkyries were pregnant or recently so and she surely wasn't going to let in a stranger to wet nurse the babe.

While she told Viserys and Ser Willem about the Valkyries, she carved and cut and hammered until she built a small cradle for Daenerys, to be placed in her room. She was already having another bed built for Viserys; until he was older, he and Daenerys would be staying in Brynhildr's room.

Daario had asked the Stormcrows to begin heading back to Qohor; he would catch up to them once his business in Braavos was concluded. He promised Brynhildr he could stay at least a few days longer, to see what she needed and how he could be of service. For the first day, all she needed was for someone to listen to her as she ranted and planned aloud how she was going to manage to raise two children who were wanted by the King of Westeros.

"Regardless," she finished, eyes surrounded by dark circles, "I want to continue to see you as often as possible. As often as you can come by. I do wish to explore love with you, Daario. If you'll have me."

"I will," he promised, taking her hand and kissing it. "I am yours, Mineri. All yours. In time, we'll see how Oberyn factors into my life. I can't say I've ever taken a fancy to men, but... if you'll be opening your heart to him, I suppose I can think of doing the same."

She half-smiled, head falling onto his shoulder as he cupped her face. "Thank you for understanding."

"How could I not?" said Daario. "You may not want to think yourself a goddess, but you are one in my eyes. I cannot blame everyone in the world for being in love with you, nor can I blame you for wanting more than one of those to be fully devoted to you. I am many things, but not a jealous man. As long as I can have some of you... that's all that matters."

He wrapped an arm around her, kissing her head. "I'll come to see you as often as I can. You and my–" He whispered teasingly, "Stepchildren."

"I don't think it's appropriate to joke about that just yet." But her lips began to twitch and she burst out laughing. "Gods, it's so stupid. I want to laugh and cry at this entire situation. All of it, it makes no sense and at the same time, every bit of sense. I am... a mess of emotion. I was just telling you how I didn't think I'd be a good mother and oh, the gods heard me, and said– well, being a mother is one of the things we chose you to be. I suppose they were listening this whole time."

"Shh..." He poked her cheek. "You'll be a wonderful mother. You're all those children have. I don't think you could be bad to them when all they need is someone to be there."

He had a point. It really wasn't difficult to be what the children needed at the moment. Daenerys only wanted to be fed, held, and changed according to her randomized schedule. Brynhildr could do all of that, and it made the baby happy. Viserys was frustrated– he needed someone who understood both his anger and his anxiety. Brynhildr gave him a sparring sword and let him beat at the walls until he was too tired to feel anything else.

When he'd woken up afraid in the night, she'd lifted her covers and had him sleep beside her. It was easy to stroke his hair and sing lullabies– she remembered Helga singing them, she remembered Aslaug singing them, she swore there was even a distant memory of Siggy in there somewhere.

She was sad when Daario left. She felt more alone than ever, despite being surrounded by more people than she ever had been. Oberyn was depressed and only left his room to go and find a fight in the streets of Braavos. Their shield-maidens guarded him from a distance, only sweeping in when he was about to cause too much trouble. Brynhildr didn't know if he'd ever be alright again. She didn't know if Viserys would ever truly feel safe anywhere, if Daenerys would feel connected at all to her family.

"I hate this," said Viserys angrily. He glared at Daenerys venomously as she hiccuped, Brynhildr patting her back and burping her over her shoulder. "I hate her."

"Why?" asked Brynhildr. "She is a babe. She's done nothing to you."

"She killed my mother."

"Is that what you think?" Brynhildr tilted her head. "Why did your mother die?"

"Giving birth to her. She ruined everything."

"No. She was put in your mother's belly by your father, who I'm told was a very bad man to her. He did the same thing to her to make you. Your mother could have died having you because women die on the birthing bed all the time. I saw it in my lands, I see it here. Sometimes, the body bleeds and the gods won't let it stop. Sometimes, the place they give birth in is too dirty, or the people around don't know how to help them. It's not Dany's fault your mother died. It's not your fault, either. It happened, you couldn't stop it, and that's that. Don't take it out on the baby. If anyone is to be blamed, it is your enemies."

He pressed his butterknife into the edge of his plate. "I'll kill them. I'll kill them all."

"How?" she asked blandly. "You can hardly use a sparring sword. You're six years old. My brother Ivar had killed someone by the age of four. How are you going to kill your enemies when you cannot even hold a butterknife properly?"

He became serious, huffing indignantly. She added, "This is going to take time, Viserys. It is going to require patience. You are a dragon. You have the blood of Old Valyria. They tell me this is good blood, the sort that makes you strong. I will teach you to be strong. I will teach you to kill your enemies. But most importantly, I will teach you how to be King. Because your goal is not to kill your enemies, it is to crush them as you take your rightful place on the Iron Throne. You cannot be a good king if you are not both fierce and wise. For starters, you need to learn to defend yourself and you need to be nice to your sister. She's the last part of your mother you have left."

This seemed to make him think more. "But I am angry. I cannot stop being angry. I am angry at everyone."

Brynhildr nodded. "My brother also had that problem. Do you know what my father told him?" Viserys shook his head. "Your anger is a gift. What is in here–" She poked Viserys's forehead, making him crack a small smile. "Is a gift. You do not think like other men. You are unpredictable. And that will serve you well. Use your anger intelligently, and I promise you, one day, the whole world will know and fear..." She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes teasingly, "Viserys, the Dragon King."

He seemed to like this. "Then, it is not a bad thing to be angry?"

"My father said that if we do not have anger, we are nothing. I had a lot of anger, too. My father and mother were killed as well and I avenged them. I will teach you to channel this feeling into your sword. Anger needs to be redirected, rather than snuffed out. You are still young. You have already lived horrors none should have to know. Don't worry about not having all the answers, about feeling as though everything is confusing. It is confusing for a boy like you. None of us could expect you to have it all under control. Let yourself be a child, Viserys. Let the rest of us handle things until you are ready for responsibility."

He nodded. "Yes, Mineri."

She tilted her head curiously. "Mineri?"

"I heard the man named Daario call you that. I don't... want to call you 'mother.'"

"You don't have to. Mineri is fine." She sighed. "I don't know how to be a mother. But I am going to try. I can never replace Queen Rhaella, but I hope to do right by her and take care of you and your sister, as she would have wanted."

Viserys stopped moving his utensils over his plate. "I miss my mother. I miss her terribly."

"I know, my boy," whispered Brynhildr. "I know."