She parted ways with Arya at the gate. She wanted to invite her in, to take her to the Queen's bedchamber and keep her there indefinitely but saying so would be counterproductive. She didn't want anything to destroy the easy back and forth she and Arya experienced when they were alone.
Jorah stepped from a shadow, not long after she dismounted her horse. "Are you hurt!?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, as I said I'd be."
"You couldn't know that. That woman…"
"Meant me no harm," Daenerys insisted. Her mind went back to the night before and how forcefully 'that woman' gripped Daenerys as her orgasm peaked. She'd have bruises for sure. Luckily, they were on a part of her body the knight would never see.
"Riding off alone with her was reckless. She could have been anybody. Just because she volunteered to help build…"
She was growing weary of this. She heard Arya's voice in her ear reminding her which of them was the Queen. "We are not discussing this any further," she declared. "I appreciate your concern," she exaggerated, "but in this case it is totally unnecessary."
Daenerys knew Jorah was incapable of letting it go. She walked away quickly and engaged the first servant she encountered in conversation, effectively silencing him for the time being.
It wasn't a long-term plan. Jorah would bring it up again and again until he was satisfied. He wouldn't be alone either. He was hardly the only gossip behind the Red Keep's walls. There was little she could do short of assigning the knight to another post. He was relentless when he felt he was right, and his job gave him ample opportunity to speak to her alone. Keeping it from him would be harder than trying to empty the Narrow Sea with a spoon. He'd learn about Arya eventually, they all would if things continued, so that begged the question, why not now? She didn't have a good excuse, beyond that she didn't want to tell them. Just because she was Queen didn't mean she couldn't hold a secret or two.
R-C
"A moonlight ride, staying out all night, coming home in the morning with a smile. It all sounds very romantic," Tyrion teased as they sat side by side. A pair of Dothraki were outside the door, giving Daenerys the illusion of personal space, however brief.
Of course, Tyrion knew. Jorah probably ran to him and made a scene before she and Arya had reached her camp. She worked hard to hide her emotions under a mask. "Yes, it was quite nice," she said, understating things drastically.
"Far be it from me to contradict a Queen," he began, "but you're smiling an awful lot. More than is typical after an evening that is merely 'nice.'" She was willing herself not to blush. She hadn't done anything wrong. "Nice evenings typically end with you sleeping in your own bed, alone." By the end he wore a smug grin that had Daenerys considering hitting him.
Verbally sparring with Arya had given her plenty of practice to turn things around on Tyrion. "You would know, wouldn't you?" she countered. "How did you spend your night, or should I say, with whom?"
His hesitation was brief, but she caught it and it thrilled her. So rarely could anyone knock the Lannister off balance. "I…"
Daenerys let the moment hang between them until he began to respond and then cut him off. "Or," she proposed, "we could focus on the documents that require my attention."
Were her eyes betraying her when Tyrion paused and looked at her with what she thought was pride? He smiled before he picked up the next page on the pile. "The documents are rather important, your Grace."
She smiled, basking in her victory. "Back to work, then."
R-C
For a day that started so well Daenerys was disappointed with how it unfolded. She'd snuck away from her guards and her responsibilities the night before to go and see Arya. They had a wonderful few hours together in Arya's camp. So good in fact Daenerys didn't want it to end. She tried to come up with a reasonable excuse to prolong their time together, but everything she concocted was obviously transparent. Arya was not the sort to fall for obviously transparent. It wasn't as if Daenerys could simply say, 'I want you to be the first thing I see when I'm done doing whatever it is the Realm demands of me today.'
Right from the start, the morning had been as close to perfect as Daenerys could imagine. She woke in Arya's strong arms and remained there in blissful peace for several minutes until Arya stirred. They teased and laughed as they dressed. It was more of the same all the way back to the city. She was even planning on inviting Arya in for something to eat. Not in the dining hall of course, but in the room Daenerys had begun thinking of as 'theirs', the place where they shared their first meal. She allowed herself to believe Arya would have accepted her invitation if Jorah hadn't been waiting to interfere.
He demanded her attention with alleged 'important, urgent matters' and that was all Arya needed to hear before she was making up a reason to go. If Jorah and the guards weren't in view, she would have tried to entice Arya to stay with a kiss, or ten, but it wasn't to be.
Once Arya had gone, Daenerys made an honest effort to tend to the issues Jorah raised, but in her opinion there wasn't one of them that couldn't have waited until after she and Arya ate breakfast.
After Jorah, Tyrion replaced him at her side and in her ear. He too had urgent business that couldn't be delayed. When it was finished, he didn't go, instead reminding her of what was planned to prevent her from sneaking out again that night. A delegation of representatives from Dorne was expected in the late afternoon. A feast had been arranged to celebrate their arrival forcing Daenerys to play host. Truth be told the last thing Daenerys wanted to do was spend a long, elaborate meal with politicians and emissaries from Dorne or anywhere else, but they travelled a long way and she could hardly refuse.
That was how she came to be choosing a dress for the occasion, unhappy with every available option. She felt none of the anticipation or anxiety she had when she was preparing for dinner with Arya. The contrast was striking. "Do you think they'd notice if the Queen wasn't there?" she asked Missandei bitterly.
"I'm afraid so," she confirmed. "Do you not like your guests?"
"It's not them," she said as she tossed the dress she'd been holding onto the bed. "It's all of it. Why does it always have to be feasts and tournaments, games and celebrations? Why can't we just have dinner and talk like normal people?"
Daenerys knew she was rambling and taking her anger out on Missandei unfairly. The feast wasn't the problem, nor the Dornish, rather it was the reality that her position as Queen would once again keep her from doing what she wanted to. How could she expect anyone to understand she'd rather be in the forest, eating whatever Arya happened to hunt for them in place of the five-course meal the kitchen staff had been working on for days? How could she explain she'd choose sitting under the stars, in Arya's arms over the fine wine, the dancing and the entertainment her staff had scheduled? They'd think her as mad as her father if they learned she thought one common woman more worthy of her time than the whole of Dorne.
"Perhaps it'll be fun," Missandei said in an effort to improve the Queen's mood.
"Before or after one of the Dornish casually mentions the benefits of marriage between our two houses?" she retorted snidely.
From the first day of her reign it had been a running joke among those closest to her. No house great or small could visit the Red Keep and the Dragon Queen without at least one man propositioning Daenerys in hopes of marrying. Until recently the proposals were annoying, and repetitive but not enough to spark her ire. That no longer was the case and the reason for the change was obvious. Arya.
Just as Daenerys thought her name, Missandei brought her into the conversation. "If you had a companion for the evening, it might deter them."
The thought of walking into the feast with Arya on her arm was enough to bring a sincere smile to her face, brief as it was. If only it were that easy. "Arya would hate such an engagement. She detests everything about politics and politicians. I fear she'd stab one of our distinguished guests with her fork before the salad was done."
Missandei's attractive face was comical in her horror. Daenerys could see she wasn't sure if those words were a jest or not, and as such didn't know if she should laugh. Honestly, Daenerys didn't know if she was joking either. Could Arya be trusted to use her words to express her displeasure when surrounded by arrogant nobles?
"You could ask her, she may surprise you."
With a shake of her head Daenerys forced the thoughts of Arya away. She needed to get ready, and so did Missandei. "The feast begins in less than two hours, you should be getting ready, not listening to me complain."
Missandei put a comforting hand on her arm. "I'll always have time to listen."
She really did appreciate the offer. Tempting as it was, talking about Arya would only darken her attitude further. She needed to stop thinking about the one person who wouldn't be in attendance tonight. "Thank you, but I'm fine. Go and get ready, I'll meet you and we can walk down together."
"Can you choose a dress without me?" she asked, again trying to brighten the mood.
Daenerys's violet eyes landed on the silk garments spread out across her large bed. "Any recommendations?"
"Wear the one you think Arya would like best."
She recalled once telling Missandei that Arya didn't care about dresses, so she held her tongue to avoid repeating herself. "Thank you for your help Missandei," she said, gesturing to her braided hair. "I'll see you shortly."
"Until then, your Grace."
R-C
She swung the hammer and felt perverse pleasure when she heard the satisfying thud of the head against the nail. It didn't thrill her the way swinging a sword did, but she couldn't deny manual labor and hard work weren't the worst things.
The orphanage was a worthy cause. Dany wanted it to better the Realm, Arya wanted it because Dany did. Children ran around her as she worked, playing one game or another, a few were even brave enough to speak to her. She admired the courage but sent them on their way after only a few words. The orphans made her uncomfortable. Not because she'd once been them, parentless, homeless, in need of charity, but because when she looked at them, she wondered about their mothers and fathers. Was it Arya who orphaned the cute little boy with rosy cheeks and chubby legs? A girl in a faded dress had golden hair that could have made her a Lannister. Was Arya the reason she lived in the newly constructed building?
Dany was never far from her thoughts. Seeing her when she came to tour the orphanage, spending the night with her afterward hadn't helped. Now she was listening for soft footsteps at her back, hoping to see silver or violet from the corner of her eye.
What was happening to her? Losing her mind over a woman, any woman wasn't who Arya was. That Dany was a Queen only worsened the shame she wanted to feel but didn't. She was a Faceless Man, she was No One, she could be anyone or anything she chose. So, the question remained why out of all the possibilities did she bring Arya back from the dead when Dany asked her name? It was the laugh that did it. More specifically it was the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. Every time she saw it, she understood why minstrels sang songs and wrote fables involving their newest Queen.
It was just supposed to be a little harmless conversation. She'd been in the tavern for weeks waiting for any sign of her target and despite him being a regular, she'd yet to see him. It was another wasted night, why not distract herself with the Queen who was hiding in her own lands?
That may have been how it started but it wasn't the end. Dany occupied more of her mind than was healthy even as she was sending the Many Faced God a new playmate. She left the tavern then, her job complete. She should have headed for the nearest port. The world was a big place and there were corners of it she'd yet to see. Wherever she went, she'd have work. Someone of her bloody talents was always in demand. She may have left the temple but the skills she learned there remained. For reasons she didn't examine too closely she never strayed far from King's Landing.
She was an adept liar, without a doubt, but she wasn't lying when she told Dany that she decided to visit the tourney at the last minute. The part she neglected to share was that her motives for attending began and ended with sneaking looks at Dany as she oversaw the festivities. She got far more than that.
Even their encounter at the orphanage, surrounded by children, Septas and her multitude of guardsmen had led to more. She never expected Dany would want to stay at her camp for more than a few minutes but Queen or not, she was content there. Content enough to keep coming back. Her arrival the night before was both unexpected and welcome. Arya made the most of it, certain that sooner rather than later fate would force them apart in a permanent way.
She lined up the next nail and brought the hammer down hard. With both her hands occupied, she was holding the extra nails between her thin lips. The children's building was done, and before week's end the Septa's would be complete as well. When it was, Arya would need a new method of stalking Dany.
"Arya," a soft voice said. There was an undercurrent running through that had the word shaking ever so slightly. It wasn't fear. Whoever this was didn't fear her, they did however know her name, a name she had used with only one person since her return to Westeros. She spit out the nails without care for where they'd land and pivoted, gripping the hammer tightly in her left hand.
Deep eyes the color of chocolate widened in alarm. Arya recognized the woman as Dany's advisor. The Queen spoke of her often and always fondly. She lowered the hammer to her side and abandoned the half-buried nail still sticking out from the wood. "Missandei, isn't it?"
She visibly relaxed when Arya was no longer wielding the hammer like a mad-woman. The assassin smirked at the premise that she'd need anything more than her hands to dispatch one former slave to the Many Faced God. Her good mood vanished when she began to consider all the reasons Missandei might have come. "Is Dany alright?"
She nodded first and then swallowed. It bought her extra time to organize her thoughts. Arya didn't interfere. "Yes, she's fine." There was another pause and she could see the Targaryen loyalist debating her next words. "She just misses you."
Her tightly controlled anger bubbled up and then over. "She sent you to tell me that?" Arya retorted sarcastically. Surely Dany knew this wouldn't be well received. "You can tell your Queen that if she has anything to say to me, she knows where to find me, she can say it herself."
Missandei recoiled from the venom she heard. "S…she doesn't know I'm here."
Arya studied her carefully, calling on all her years in the temple. She searched Missandei for the lie in her message and came away empty-handed. She was telling the truth. With a conscience effort to make herself less threatening and angry she set down the hammer and waved Missandei to the side, where they could speak more easily. "You serve the Queen, but she doesn't know you're here?"
"She misses you," she reiterated, "she told me so."
"Why have you come?"
She was holding her hands in front of her and twisted them up in what Arya could only assume was a nervous gesture. "We're having a feast tonight, at the keep. Representatives from Dorne are here to negotiate with Daenerys."
For the first time she noticed Missandei's clothes. As a royal advisor, she was always well-dressed in expensive silks but on closer inspection, she could see a more formal element to her attire. She wore a silver bracelet with a dragon's head on her right wrist, one that definitely hadn't been there when she visited the orphanage. The dress itself was black and covered only one shoulder. It was the sort Sansa would approve of. It had an elaborate, decorative chain style belt around her narrow waist that left the excess links dangling off her hip. So, the occupants of the Red Keep were gorging themselves on fine foods, what did that have do with her?
Her question must have been obvious because Missandei didn't need to wait for it. "She wishes you could accompany her but did not want to burden you by asking."
Although her hearing was excellent, she doubted her ears. It took her longer than it should've to craft a reply. "Feasts aren't really my kind of thing," she said. There, simple and to the point without being rude to Dany's friend.
Missandei smiled, making her more attractive. "I know, she said as much, but I thought perhaps I'd ask anyway, on her behalf."
The quick, flat 'no' was on the tip of her tongue before she swallowed it down. A long day of physical effort had left her dirty, sweaty and smelling terrible, yet she was considering making an appearance at a feast fit for Queens. If Dany wanted her there, she could suffer through a single night, couldn't she? Before she could agree, a vision of her walking into the Red Keep's crowded hall and embarrassing Dany with her presence filled her mind. No! She refused to be the reason those cunts at court gossiped about Dany. It was already widely believed the Targaryen didn't understand Westeros. That idea would spread if the Queen sat a filthy stranger at the royal table for all to see.
Missandei was waiting patiently for her to decide. She smiled at Dany's friend, pleased she had someone in her life willing to go to such lengths to try and make her happy. "I would," she said, starting with the good news, "but I don't have clothes for a feast and I've been working all day."
"She wouldn't care about that," Missandei said quickly. Arya suspected she was anticipating that particular excuse. "She just wants to see you."
Another harsh refusal would have ended things cleanly enough, but Arya found herself wanting to explain, hoping the words would find their way to Dany and justify her absence. "She wouldn't care," Arya agreed, "but others would. You know what they say about her, that she's a foreigner who doesn't understand. If I go there, looking like this…"
"I could find you clothes, and you could take a bath at the keep."
The potential of a whole night with Dany? Tempting but impossible. "I won't embarrass her!" Arya said forcefully. "I can't do that to her."
She had no desire to sit in the crowded hall and engage in boring conversation for the hours the feast would last, but she did feel a stab of disappointment when it was decided she wouldn't get to see Dany.
"The feast doesn't begin for another hour or so," Missandei informed her. "She's in her chambers getting ready, if you wanted to see her before dinner, you could."
Arya could see why Dany chose to keep this woman around. She was stubborn, intelligent and had a fierce loyalty to her Queen. It was the third quality above all else that Arya found herself appreciating most. King's Landing was a dangerous place, Arya was pleased to see Dany had at least one person in her day to day life who would put her above the politics. It was no small thing, seeking out one woman in the busy city, just minutes before an important event, to brighten the mood of her friend. It was a struggle to imagine anyone in Cersei's life doing anything even remotely similar for her.
She hadn't changed her mind about attending the feast, that was out of the question, but she could, she supposed, sneak in for a brief visit before it all began. "Lead the way."
R-C
The knock startled her. Not because she wasn't expecting it, but because it was too hard and loud to be Missandei. Alone, she forced herself to choose one of the many beautiful dresses available to her and put it on. It was green with gold accents and Daenerys didn't hate the way it looked against her pale skin tone. Missandei had told her to select one Arya would like, she couldn't help wondering if she succeeded?
Any doubts she had about it not being Missandei were removed when a head of bouncy dark curls didn't poke between the frame and the door to check on her. She was sitting on the end of the bed, about to slide on her shoes when a second round of knocks came, hard and fast. "I'll be right there," she said with a huff. Dropping her shoes, she hurried barefoot to the door, muttering under her breath the whole trip.
As she opened the door her free hand went to her hip in hopes of showing her displeasure with being interrupted and rushed.
Finding Arya in the hall outside her bedchambers just before she was due to host a feast was if not the last thing she expected, it was pretty damn close. She blinked to make sure it wasn't a mistake.
"I can go if you're busy," she said, good naturedly.
Joke or not, she wasn't willing to risk it. She grabbed her lover in a hug and held her as tightly as she could. "Don't even think about it," she mumbled against Arya's chest.
It was Arya clearing her throat that reminded her of their location. Personally, she didn't care who saw them, but if Arya wanted privacy, she could arrange it. "Come in," she said, taking a reluctant step back into the room and beckoning Arya to follow.
The shock wore off, replaced by questions. "What are you doing here?" Had she snuck past the guards again? Last time she'd done it for their dinner, what was her motive this time? She quickly realized how bad that must have sounded to Arya and hurried to mend the damage. "No!" she said a little too loudly, "I didn't mean it like that, I… I just wasn't expecting you is all."
Arya was enjoying her discomfort, though it was hard to mind much. She walked to the Queen's massive closet and stuck her head inside. "Something wrong with your closet, Dany?"
She didn't understand at first. She was too busy enjoying the view of Arya walking across her room. She looked amazing in her simple black pants and a white shirt. Beads of sweat clung to her neck and Daenerys guessed she'd spent another day at the orphanage. The hours since she'd last seen her, seemed longer than they truly were somehow.
It took Arya pointing openly to the dresses on the bed to illicit a response. "I couldn't decide what to wear," she said feebly as her cheeks burned crimson.
Arya's laugh had her thinking up occasions to embarrass herself more often. She smiled and let Arya take a look around without interruption. "I'm not complaining, but what are you doing here?"
"Missandei said you might need a little company while she's getting ready for the feast, I volunteered."
When she opened the door, she didn't recall seeing anyone other than Arya but that didn't guarantee Missandei wasn't there. "Missandei went and found you?"
"At the orphanage," Arya verified, "she thought you'd be happy to see me."
Suddenly she realized she didn't care how or why it happened. It had, and she was grateful. She'd thank Missandei later, now she was going to take full advantage of this unexpected gift. "Missandei is the smartest person I know."
Arya lifted an eyebrow. "So, I should stay?"
Reaching out she took Arya's hand and pulled her to the bed. Rather than sitting Daenerys pushed Arya down and straddled her lap, facing her. She took her lover's face in her hands and kissed her softly.
Every kiss was like wildfire in her veins. Arya's calloused hands traced the exposed skin on Daenerys's back but never went beneath the fabric, no matter how badly she willed them too.
When she left Arya's lips for a turn tasting her neck, she brought up their limited time together. Even so, she did nothing to stop Daenerys from beginning her feast early. "Aren't, y…you supposed to be getting ready?"
She really was. It wouldn't be long until someone came to collect her. Missandei knew she was with Arya, so it wouldn't be her, but that wouldn't stop the others. She pointed behind her back with one hand in the general direction of where she dropped her shoes. "Shoes, then I'm ready," she mumbled against Arya's throat. She used her teeth to try and motivate Arya to help her forget the world beyond her door. It almost worked.
"Fuckkk!" she hissed as she tilted her head to give Dany more space. She didn't need any more encouragement. "If you don't stop, I'm going to ruin your hair," Arya warned between moans.
That hardly sounded like the worst possible outcome. She smiled wickedly. "I was actually thinking I should wear it down anyway. Go ahead."
There was a delay, not long but enough for Daenerys to notice. Arya was nothing if not deliberate and if she was waiting, it was because she was thinking about her actions. When Arya's hands left her back and went up into her hair for the first time, Daenerys shivered in delight. "I like it better down anyway," Arya informed her before she began undoing thirty minutes worth of Missandei's work.
After the last twist in her braid was unwound, Arya kept combing her fingers through the long silver strands. It gave Daenerys an idea. "Do you like this dress?" she said standing up and stepping back to give Arya a complete view. She twirled for effect and loved how Arya's couldn't look away. She didn't even blink.
"You look beautiful," Arya said breathlessly.
Daenerys's smile only grew. That wasn't what she asked, but she'd take it. "I'm not sure its right for tonight."
"You look…" Arya started to say, likely to reassure her but her words halted abruptly when Daenerys let the dress fall to her ankles. She stepped out and pretended not to notice a pair of grey eyes following her every move.
"Maybe this one," Daenerys said, picking one of the many dresses on the bed at random. It was a deep purple color with only one shoulder strap. She held it up in front of her naked body and waited for Arya to say something. "Well?" she encouraged.
"Dresses aren't really my thing," her lover confessed with cheeks the color of the red silk she was sitting on.
"Much better at taking them off then putting them on, huh?" Dany teased. This was the best she'd felt since separating from Arya that morning. Her smile was real and her mind clear. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.
"We all have our talents," Arya bantered.
She purred in reply. "Mmm, I know all about your talents."
Arya didn't miss a beat. "You don't know half of them," she vowed with a straight face, "yet."
Was it too late to cancel the feast and send the Dornish back to Sunspear? Whatever they travelled thousands of miles to say, could surely wait, couldn't it? All she wanted was Arya. Why did she have to be Queen?
When Arya stood, she secretly hoped she intended to take the choice from Daenerys and decide for her but instead of stepping forward she turned her back on the Targaryen and began to analyze the dresses on the bed.
Not that she was opposed to the view, but she did wonder what Arya was up to. Daenerys lazily traced the muscles in her back, while she waited to see what happened next.
She turned so quickly she nearly knocked Daenerys over. "This one," she said holding out a dress in Daenerys's direction. She took a moment to admire it before she removed it from the hook of Arya's extended finger. It was a beautiful dress she'd had commissioned a month earlier. The bottom was pure white but near her waist the silk shifted into grey. The top half was mostly dyed grey with white edging down the deep V that showed off her chest. She liked the dress and considered choosing it. Ultimately, she decided against it because the color didn't resemble Arya's eyes enough to please her.
Arya's approval was the only one she needed. She was already arranging the silk to slip it on when she asked, "Why this one?"
She shrugged. "I just like it." Daenerys knew there had to be a reason beyond that, but it didn't matter enough to inquire further. They were almost out of time.
Dressed again she walked over to her collection of jewelry and waved for Arya to join her. "Gold or silver?"
"Silver," Arya answered at once.
That immediately eliminated a large amount of her options. She had dragon pendants, dragon medallions, dragon rings, dragon bracelets and dragon pins.
Arya came up from behind and leaned over her shoulder, getting a look at the vast collection. "I'm sensing a pattern," she joked as she pecked at Daenerys's cheek.
"Which do you like?"
"Do you have anything else?"
"A few more I think…" she said, trying to recall where the others had been stored.
"More dragons?"
She blushed when she realized the problem Arya had with her selection. "Yeah, most of them were gifts."
They'd been doing so well, ignoring the Queen's vast wealth, her history and her obligations. Not even the feast beginning downstairs had prevented them from being Dany and Arya for a few minutes. She felt Arya move and she wanted to cry. She held her breath in anticipation of Arya pulling away. She'd been reminded of who Dany really was, and it would shatter everything.
"This one," Arya said softly, bringing a silver dragon necklace into the light. It was a simple, well-made piece that was expertly detailed in its engravings.
Not trusting her voice, she settled for a nod in agreement. As she went to take the chain, Arya snatched it back. "Arya!" she reprimanded.
"Shh!" she countered, ending Daenerys's protest. She returned to her spot behind the Queen and gently gathered up her hair, lifting it out of the way.
Her heart was beating so loudly she was certain Arya could hear it, she definitely could. When Arya had all her hair grouped together Daenerys reached back and held it, so that Arya could free her hands. Her knuckles brushed Arya's in the process and she felt lightning. Steady hands centered the necklace on her throat and then brought the ends of the chain together. She clasped it easily and took a step back to signify she was done. Daenerys looked down at herself and was pleased with the result. Another opinion mattered more than hers though. "What do you think?" she asked as she twirled again.
Arya looked uncharacteristically shy when she said, "They won't be able to take their eyes off you."
She felt bad that Arya had come to see her, and she was leaving her to entertain her other guests. "I'm sorry I can't stay. I wish I didn't have to go."
"I understand," she replied, and Dany believed she did. She wasn't saying it to make Daenerys feel better, Arya wouldn't do that. It didn't help much but it was better than nothing. "I'm sorry I'm not the kind of woman you can take to important events like this."
It took an extra second or two for Daenerys's brain to comprehend the underlying meaning. Did Arya actually believe that was the reason she hadn't invited her? She felt like a terrible person. She loved the idea of Arya joining her but hadn't thought the common woman would be interested in attending. "Arya that's not…"
Arya was staring off into space, thinking about something very different from the here and now. "Missandei tried to invite me but…"
"Do you want to come?" Daenerys blurted out as hope began to make an appearance in her chest.
"Do you want me to?" she fired back.
She couldn't tell if Arya was toying with her or not. Now was not the time for more games. This was serious. "Don't joke Arya. I didn't invite you tonight because I didn't think you'd enjoy being surrounded by politicians and nobles. If I was wrong…"
"You weren't," Arya told her simply.
The disappointment she felt at the admission was real and intense. Her mind was busy trying to find a way to give Arya some peace, to prevent her from feeling bad. Daenerys didn't care if she avoided nobles like they had Greyscale. She'd never force Arya to be anything she wasn't.
What came next nearly knocked the Targaryen off her feet. "I'd hate every second of it, but I'd go if you want me to."
Daenerys was speechless. What could she possibly say to something so sweet? Since words were in short supply, she put her mouth to better use and kissed Arya passionately, melding them together until long after her lungs burned.
As she recovered from the kiss, she thought up a clever quip that would have been useful earlier. "I won't make you do that, they probably aren't even serving any rum."
Arya played along, scoffing in mock horror. "And they call the Dothraki savages."
She was pleased they'd found their way back to this place before she had to go. She'd take laughing together with Arya over anything waiting downstairs, but refusing wasn't something she could do, even if she was a Queen. "We all have our burdens," she said, trying to make light of her internal plight.
A knock on the door came and suddenly reality couldn't be postponed any longer. "I'm sorry to interrupt Daenerys," Missandei said through the wood, "the feast has begun."
She flashed Arya an apologetic look before she answered. "Thank you Missandei, I'll be right down."
Arya offered a helpful hand to keep her steady as she finally got her shoes on. "Your adoring public awaits."
"The exciting world of Dornish exports," Daenerys countered, "I'll be on the edge of my seat, I'm sure."
As they always did, her childish outbursts amused her lover. When her shoes were on and the outfit complete, she was pulled to Arya one final time. "Remember they need your help much more than you need theirs. King's Landing won't fall if it can't get Dornish wine or spices."
Not for the first time, Daenerys wished her decisions could be as simple as Arya made them sound. "Disrupting our business with Dorne wouldn't benefit me in the least."
She kept up easily. "True, but that doesn't mean you can't use the relationship to your advantage. What does the Targaryen Queen want beyond an orphanage?"
The question hung between them until Daenerys connected their mouths. She really did have to go but a few more seconds wouldn't make that big of a difference. She was already late.
"Why can't lessons with Tyrion be this much fun?" she joked.
A heavy hand knocked on the door and Daenerys knew it wasn't Missandei this time. She also knew if it was who she suspected, he wouldn't wait long before opening the door to look inside. Arya tried to step away, to hide but Daenerys didn't let her. "Khaleesi," Jorah said, "is everything alright?"
"I'm just changing!" she yelled, hoping that would keep him from coming in after her. "I'll meet you at the stairs."
"I best be going, before I get you in more trouble."
It was a long shot, but she had to try. "You could stay."
"Not tonight," she declined.
The kiss they shared to say goodbye was too short for the Queen's liking. In fact, she resisted two distinct attempts by Arya to separate their mouths. On the third try Arya tugged free with a chuckle. "Patience Dany."
She shook her head. "Yeah, I'm still working on that."
There was a sparkle in her grey eyes that had Daenerys forgetting to breathe. "Good, I'll help you practice, next time."
And just like that, she had something to look forward to.
R-C
When she left that morning it definitely wasn't there. When she finished declining a Dornish noble's hand in marriage, it was. At first, she thought it was from him. Who else would choose that night of all nights to deliver such a gift. If it was from him, she wouldn't be accepting it, and whoever let him into her chambers without permission would be spending time in the dungeon.
It was there on her desk with a small note. The page was the size used to send messages by raven but had none of the tell-tale rolling around the edges that those letters always did. No, she guessed, this missive was hand-delivered.
She overlooked the jewelry completely in favor of reading the note. She was already upset with whoever had invaded her quarters. It was a single sentence, with none of the big words and typical flourish nobles preferred. It read;
"For the days you're Dany and not the Dragon Queen."
There was an audible gasp as her shaking hand dropped the page. Now that she knew who left it, her anger was gone, as if it had never been there at all. She reached for the necklace. She couldn't examine it fast enough. Daenerys no longer had to wonder how the necklace had come to be there without anyone knowing. Arya had proved capable at avoiding her guards.
The necklace was beyond beautiful. It was simple in its design but very clearly crafted by a master. The silver chain was delicate and feminine. In the center was a long rectangle of silver with three stones arranged in a vertical line. The first and third were the same color and size, a pale purple that sparkled in the room's light. Between them sat a gorgeous diamond, it was the largest of three and absolutely stunning.
She had been wearing an elaborate three-tiered necklace, each level with one of the dragon heads from her sigil. When lined up properly and the space between them minimized, they formed the Targaryen mark perfectly. She'd always liked it, until that moment. She tore it off so hastily she broke the clasp. It fell to the desk and she raised the silver to replace it.
Daenerys refused to even guess how expensive such a thing might be. How or where Arya had gotten enough money to buy her such a thing was a mystery. It was exquisite. Most meaningful was not its value but the fact that it wasn't for the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, or the Last Targaryen, the Breaker of Chains or the Mother of Dragons, it was for Dany and that alone made it the most important piece she owned.
R-C
Author's Note: There you have it. A little from Arya's point of view, including why she was in that tavern. This chapter was nothing like I originally intended. I was going to have Arya attend the feast, but I liked this way better. Let me know if I chose right.
Until next time.
RC