The storm blew in much quicker than Arya had assumed but it was just as harsh. She could hear a few men getting sick in other rooms which was making her feel queasy. Yara seemed unfazed after years of being on the sea. She was nursing a cup of ale by the porthole, watching the waves crash against the ship. Arya was nervously cleaning her blades despite not seeing action since they left port.
They had only seen three storms in their time at sea, and each time felt like the first. She was a wolf, not meant to be on the sea for so long. The trip to and from Braavos was much shorter and they hadn't seen any storms. This voyage was much harsher than she expected, but she'd be damned if she let anyone know.
"Some ale would do you good," Yara's voice cut through the silence. She had crossed the room, already pouring a cup before Arya could reply.
"I don't like drinking," she said as the cup was pushed into her hand anyways. But after a large wave rocked the ship enough for her to lose balance, she took a large drink of the ale hoping Yara was right.
"See, not so bad," she came to sit across from Arya at the small table she was sitting at. Yara kicked her legs up and rested her boots atop the table. "You need to lighten up, little wolf," there was a patronizing tone to her voice that made Arya roll her eyes. "Or not," she scoffed before taking another drink.
"You Greyjoys are much more care free than the Starks," she admitted, looking at the dark amber liquid in her hands.
"We're as free as the sea, at least that's what Father always told us. We can do and take what we please."
"If only we were like that in the North."
"I don't think that would be taken too kindly up there. All those honors and traditions." She had a point but Arya didn't say anything else, instead she took another sip and let out a sigh. When another large wave rocked the ship, she grabbed the hilt of Needle out of instinct which made a hearty laugh come from the other woman. "I don't think that's going to save you here. Is this your first time on a boat?"
Arya felt her cheeks get hot with embarrassment. "No, it's not," she shot back at her. "Just the longest I've been on one."
This seemed to peak Yara's interest. "Ah, I did hear stories of a lost highborn girl who traveled the land learning special skills. But no one seems to tell the same story, always adding or subtracting different bits of information."
"Well not many people know the truth." In reality, no one did. The only other person who knew what she had been through had died in the siege of Kings Landing but she was grateful to have had the chance to thank him for everything.
"We have plenty of time, why don't you tell me what is true?" She took her legs off the table and leaned forward with interest.
Arya finished her ale before setting the cup on the table. "I'm going to need a lot more of that if I'm going to tell you anything." Yara raised an eyebrow but poured her some more without question, ready to listen. She told her the stories of her years after her father's death. Pretending to be a boy, becoming Lord Tywin's cupbearer, the Brotherhood, traveling all over with the Hound trying to find whoever was left of her family before finally leaving him to continue to Braavos. She left out a few parts though; Gendry leaving her with the Red Woman, her leaving the Hound to die, little things she was not proud of. By the time she started on the House of Black and White, they had finished most of the ale and any animosity between them was long forgotten. The Faceless Men was the hardest to explain, not wanting to expose the ancient secrets she had learned despite Yara's questions about it. She kept it vague, explaining the game of faces and the stand off between her and the Waif. This part entertained Yara the most, they were quite drunk by then and she was howling with laughter when Arya explained how she trapped her.
"My Gods, the stories give you no justice. And now look at you! You killed the NIght KIng, survived Kings Landing, and now we're off to discover what there is outside of that shit country!" She finished the last of her ale and slammed the cup down on the table. "When I received the raven from your Maester, I wanted to burn it and say I never received it. I thought you were crazy! Not even my insane uncle dared coming this far west. Now he's dead and here we are!"
Arya laughed at this, it was amusing how just a few hours ago, they two of them despised each other. One would say they were evening becoming friends, thanks largely to the alcohol. "Yes, here we are. A Stark and a Greyjoy, off the discover a new world."
A silence came after that and Arya knew she had made a mistake bringing up the sore topic of their families. But after a few beats, Yara broke the silence again. "I heard other stories too. Is it true you bedded the new Lord of Storm's End and refused his proposal to be his lady?"
Arya felt her cheeks flush again at this statement but gave a small nod. "Aye, I'm no ones lady," she said simply which made a smirk come across Yara's face.
"You know, I was Queen of the Iron Islands once but I'd be damned if I became anyones lady. Where is the freedom in that? I don't do well following a man's orders."
"I'd assume not," Arya said before letting out a yawn. She looked across the room to the port hole. The sea had calmed with time but the darkness of night took over. "It seems the storm has passed."
"I suppose it has," she said simply.
Arya could feel her eyes staring at her but wasn't sure what she was waiting for. "I think maybe, I should retire now, sleep off the ale." She got up to make her way to a good sleeping spot but before she could take a step, she staggered backwards and fell back into the chair.
This made Yara laugh, "I wouldn't expect a girl of your size to be able to drink that much and walk straight after. And you didn't prove me wrong."
Arya felt embarrassed at this, she was always in control and confident but now she didn't quite feel like herself in the drunkenness. "I'll be fine, I just have to make it out the door." She tried to get up again but this time she fell forward, catching herself on the table.
Next thing she knew, Yara was there beside her with a hand on her elbow. "Come, you can stay in here, you'll need to sleep it off. And I'm sure when you wake up, you'll be grateful to have slept on a bed instead of some heap of junk you typically do." Arya tried to mumble an objection but Yara was already helping her to the bed on the other half of the room. "Get undressed, I'll find us some water." The other woman left the room, shutting the door behind her to give Arya some privacy. She wondered if all hear years on the sea had made Yara able to handle her ale like it was nothing. It was as if they had been drinking water all night, she seemed unaffected. With a sigh and wobbly hands, she began untying her boots and was shimmying out of her outer clothes by the time Yara had returned. "Here," she said passing a new cup to her. "Drink it all, you'll thank me later."
She did as she was told before settling into the bed and closing her eyes. She felt like the whole world was spinning. The movement of the ship on the waves seemed much more intense than usual. She opened her eyes again and it seemed to be a fraction better. Yara was across the room locking the door and portholes before taking off her own sailing clothes and changing into dark green sleeping clothes. Arya watched her for a moment, not able to take her eyes away until Yara turned around and locked eyes with her. She looked away quickly but noted the slight smile on the other's lips.
Yara slipped into the bed, minding the gap between them but Arya could feel the warmth of her body. Much like the many times she and Sansa had shared a bed together growing up. "Goodnight little wolf," Yara said before blowing out the lamp that was illuminating the room. And with that Arya closed her eyes, hoping sleep would soon come for her.