In which our little wolf attempts to reason with everything.
AN: Thanks for all the reviews everyone. I haven't had the time to reply to all of you but I will. Now that Arya is in another future/present, let's see how she fares, shall we? ;)
*Year 304 After Conquest (AC) - New Future*
Her panted breath was the only thing that she can hear as Arya lay down on the ground. Her face up, facing the white blue sky. Her chest rise and fall in a ragged breathing. Her hands feel wet of something, she's not sure of what and didn't exactly care either. One thing she was sure is that, she had failed her family. Her father and sister are dead because of her.
If only she didn't kill Cersei Lannister, then the lion's army may not attack them on their way down the Kingsroad.
If only she didn't kill the evil Queen, her twin brother, Jamie Lannister may not have killed her father and Sansa would still be alive too. Even Lady had to take the blame for her crime, yet again.
Why didn't they kill her too? Why didn't they end her like they did her family?
She wanted to cry then, but a loud cheering brought her back from her trance and instantly, the tears dried itself. She pushes herself up and let out a groan as pain starts to register on her body, especially her middle. Even breathing feels extremely painful.
Her eyes automatically glanced towards a man lying a few feet from her, motionless. His body covered in blood with many holes on his chest. The broken spears firmly planted on top of him.
"Accalia! Accalia!" the crowd chanted unanimously. Arya looks up to the sea of people in daze.
They were marveling on her, rather in awe as if she had done something worthy of their cheering. She glanced down to the mess of a body and suddenly realize what she had done.
I killed him.
A rush of nausea hit her in an instant as she backs away, trying hard not to spill the content of her stomach with so many audiences around. She snapped her head around the arena, hoping to find a way out. Maybe if she's lucky, she can get out of this hell place now. But, as she looks around, no exit was visible. The only door, which she guesses lead to the outside world, was right across the opening where she had come from. And it was guarded with two men. Fighting her way out was not an option as seeing that even breathing is becoming rather troublesome and excruciating for her. She would have to find another opportunity some other time.
Or maybe she didn't have to. Where would she go now? Her other family might have been dead for all she knows. So many years have passed and if her father and Sansa died because of her choices, then the others might have to. The things that she had done only seem to quicken their death. It was as if the Gods are mocking her. Maybe they were angry at her for having the nerve to pray of changing the past in the first place. Maybe this is their way of punishing her. To relive her family's death over and over again helplessly.
She turns around and starts walking towards the large opening. The noise fades away until she reached the same two men that escorted her before. Their mouth were moving but Arya paid them no heed. She walks pass them and towards the metal door where her cell awaited. As if she had done this many times before, she walks back to where she had come from. To where she belongs.
*
Arya didn't even realize that she had already gotten to her appointed cell. The next thing she knew was the cold wall against her back where she leaned on. The same smell of rot, piss and blood fills her nose. She wrapped her arm around her middle protectively, trying to ease the pain that come with each breathing. Based on her current state, a few ribs might have broken. Though judging by her opponent moments ago, maybe all of them were broken.
She chuckles humorlessly and instantly regrets it as another wave of pain shot her insides. She closed her eyes then and draw in a shaky breath, calming her nerves. But then, a voice echo along the room, more specifically Daenerys's, demanding her attention.
"She needs a healer! Come back here!" she shouts, banging the metal door along with it.
Arya almost forgot about her silver haired roommate. When Daenerys shouts the same thing again, Arya knew she is only wasting her breath and interrupting her peace but she is too tired to stop her.
As if reading her thought, her voice stops suddenly and quiet fills the cell once again. Arya let out a content sigh at that. A moment later, she can feel careful steps advancing towards her.
"Accalia – what happen?"
Still with her eyes closed, Arya let the question unanswered. First, she's not Accalia. And second, it's none of her business anyway.
But, it seems Daenerys doesn't agree with that as she crouched in front of her and reach for her arm around her middle. Before she can lay a finger on her, Arya beats the older woman to it, grabbing her pale hand right before she touches her arm.
Arya finally opens her eyes then, looking ahead to find violet eyes staring back at her. Her eyes were nothing but gentle.
"You are obviously hurting. Let me help." Daenerys speaks softly. But it only seems to get the opposite reaction from the younger girl as her jaw clenched tight in tense.
Leave me alone.
Arya stares back evenly, hoping to get the message clear. She tightens her grip against Daenerys wrist for good measures.
Maybe it was the involuntary growl – which comes out naturally to her whenever she feels tempered – or her cold eyes, but either way, Daenerys instantly backs away leaving Arya to her space once more. Once gentle violet eyes are now frightened. Though she can trace some frustration in them too.
Arya closed her eyes again, ignoring the intense stare from the older woman across the cell. As soon as she did, consciousness took her in and she welcomes it.
But it was not becoming at all peaceful as images from the past started to resurfaced from the back of her mind. The same images where she left Jon, her mother, Robb and Rickon in Winterfell. The same images where her father and Sansa got killed. And then there's an image of a foreign man who keeps beating her and making her do things she did not want. Arya flinched at the last part.
The images only grew more apparent as the same man appears again. His black curly hair and tanned skin almost remind her of someone she once knew, but his face was not at all kind and warm like her dance master. Instead it was wicked and dreadful. And he was not short of ideas on how to torment her body and soul.
Arya involuntarily let out a cry of whimper as the man starts to tower over her in another set of images. Then came a metal rod on his hand with a marker at the end. The color differs greatly with the rod, metallic grey while the end mark, glowing red. As he brought it down in front of her, a hiss sound of flesh meeting hot iron came through her ears. That's when she knew it was her own body that he had violated as the pain that comes with it was excruciatingly painful.
She awoke with a start while drawing in panted breath. On instinct her hand reach for the neck of her cloth. As she pulls it down, Arya sees a burned mark that she never knew existed on her chest. The skin burned forming along the letter of 'Q' hideously. She concludes then that it was not a dream. Somehow after the Lannister's raid on Kingsroad, she had been taken away and sold across the narrow sea.
Arya slumped further against the wall as she closed her eyes again, feeling defeated. This is her life now. A slave for her master Qazlas. Just then, a trickle sensation of being watched register, and she opens her eyes to find Daenerys staring at her. More precisely at her mark that she left exposed. Arya corrected her cloth back, covering herself while glaring at the older woman.
Daenerys looks away, awkwardly playing with the hem of her own cloth when she had been caught staring. When she steals glances at the younger girl and sees that she is still glaring, she let out a soft sigh.
"Forgive me, I do not mean to stare." Daenerys trails. "I was just…looking." She finished. Arya nearly rolled her eyes at her, but she didn't. Instead she ignores her.
Daenerys opens her mouth as if to say something else but got interrupted when footsteps echo along the hallway outside. They both snapped their head at the cell door, waiting.
Not a moment after, their guest finally arrives. Three men stands behind the metal bars, where the two Arya recognize as the guards and the other one is unfamiliar. He's sporting a different attire than the brown garment of the guards. His was in yellowish and more extravagant. His curly hair and tanned skin stood out the most to her before his face register. The same face of evil and dread all over his expression, though he wears a large smile, it didn't make him any friendlier. Arya automatically flinched in response as phantom pains starts to crawl their way to her body.
Qazlas.
Daenerys was already on her two feet, looking wary at them. Even though Arya wanted to stand up, she gave up when she is too tired to move. Besides, her position leaning against the wall seems to help lessen the strain around her middle.
"Accalia, my little wolf, you were so spectacular to watch earlier. Such a wild little beast, you are. Well done!" Qazlas spoke with such excitement and proud all over his face. "What would you like as a prize, my champion?" he asks looking down at her still plastered with a smile. Arya glares at him silently.
Silence stretch among them, before Qazlas breaks into a laughter. His laugh echoes every part of the cell making Daenerys flinched in response.
"I'm sorry Accalia. I forgot you didn't speak. No worries, my little wolf, I will choose the prize for you. I promise you will like it." He said after calming down.
"She needs a healer for a start." Daenerys suddenly speaks up. All heads turning at her, realizing her existence.
"Who is this?" Qazlas asked, frowning. One of the guards instantly by his ear, explaining quietly who the silver-haired woman is.
Another silence stretch when the man finish explaining as Qazlas stands there staring with no kindness on his eyes. The man cowered in his gaze.
"I believe another apologize is in order, my wolf. I know how you hate another person being with you. Let alone sharing the same quarters." Qazlas speaks finally, looking down at her again. Arya frowns at his tone that almost sound like he really cares and find that it's disturbing.
He then tilts his head to Daenerys, studying every inch of her. Arya was surprised the older woman did not squirm around in nerve, instead she squared her shoulder and look up at him right in the eye.
"You are far from Meereen, Queen Daenerys." Qazlas commented with a slight smirk. Daenerys was about to open her mouth to say something before his words sink in. This is the first time anyone ever acknowledge her identity.
She blinks hard at him and Arya frowns while looking at Daenerys.
So, she was who she claimed to be after all.
"Welcome to Qazlas's Pit, your grace. I am Qazlas zo Yunzak." He introduced himself with an inclined to his head. "After the Sons of Harpy raid Daznak's Pit, I heard you escaped with one of the dragon. Words are, you still live and ruled atop the Great Pyramid as we speak. Yet, here you are. Curious." Qazlas said mockingly, trying hard to contain his smile.
Daenerys swallows dryly before speaking up. "She needs a healer." Her voice calm yet strong as she stated for the second time.
Arya did not know what to feel when she shows that much concern on her. So she continues frowning as she studies her side silently. Daenerys still hold her gaze on Qazlas demanding her request to be fulfilled. At the corner of her eye, Arya knows her master is looking at her, but she could not care less as she is too busy trying to understand the woman in front of her.
"What? You mean Accalia?" he asked pointlessly. "Nonsense. Any slave that needs a healer does me no good. She can heal on her own." He finished threateningly. Daenerys shot a look of disgust his way.
"How did you manage a pit of your own? I had all the masters punished for their abominations towards slavery." She spat back. Qazlas let out a chuckle.
"Obviously you miss one." He taunted.
"Clearly." She trailed, "But, not for long." She taunted back.
They held their gaze at each other. Silence stretch before them with neither making a move when suddenly Qazlas breaks into a smile.
"I changed my mind." He announced. Daenerys frowns at the sudden change. "I'm going to let you stay with Accalia. My little wolf will be a good company for the queen."
Arya cannot help but feel there is another meaning behind his words. Was he expecting her to be a bad company instead? Ever since she awoke realizing the time travel, people seems to expect only the worse of her.
I did kill that Manslayer. Brutally, I might add.
She remembers all she ever did here were killing, fighting and more killing. Maybe she's a wild beast after all and probably that's why she did not talk. People all around her treats her nothing like a human. Her master most of all as she remembered the scarred mark on her chest. And now he is telling her indirectly to give the queen of Meereen a hard time.
Well, he can go to hell.
Arya let out a threatening growl as Qazlas looks down at her. Instead of cowering like she wanted him to, he let out a hideous grin instead.
"That's my wild wolf." He commented proudly before glancing towards Daenerys again. He inclined his head as a goodbye bid and walks away from where he came from along with the guards, leaving the two alone again.
Arya watched his retreating form with a scowl on her face while Daenerys slump against the floor with a sigh. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, pinching the bridge of her nose while Arya watched her every move curiously.
Is she really Daenerys Targaryan? Mother of dragons and Queen of Meereen?
Arya is still having a hard time to believe any of it. She didn't realize the said woman was staring back at her with a thoughtful look of her own.
"You won't hurt me." Daenerys stated. Arya shifts her attention back at her violet eyes.
Silence engulf them as they weigh each other pointedly. Daenerys has a look of doubt over her despite her statement. As if she was waiting for Arya to launch at her this very moment and prove her otherwise.
No. I will never hurt anyone without a reason.
And right now, Arya has nothing against the silver haired queen. She looks ahead, away from her questioning eyes and not a moment after Daenerys let out a breath she didn't know she held.
"You are nothing like the men said. I can tell you are a good person, Accalia." She said comfortingly.
Arya tightens her arm around her middle and turns her head another side as a reply. Silence surrounds them for a moment before a voice breaks it again.
"I will get you out of here. Everyone who are locked in this place, I will give them freedom. My advisors are surely searching for me as we speak and when they do come with my army, Qazlas will get the punishment he deserved." Daenerys spoke with a low voice, assuring the younger girl though it seems like she was assuring more of herself.
Arya can't help herself when she let out a snort at that.
"You don't believe me?" Daenerys asked, accusingly. Arya closed her eyes ignoring the queen's question.
She can feel the older woman's irritation from the back of her head as she slowly drifts off to another slumber.
*
It was only when the sound of metal clashing did Arya finally open her eyes. She awoke with a start and instantly tries to get up. She didn't realize she had changed her position to fully laying on the ground. She grunts as a wave of pain shot through her middle at the sudden movement.
But, the sight of an opened door made all the pain go away. Arya blinks hard at her cell door which is now free of its locked wondering if she is dreaming. She glanced toward the side where Daenerys is also doing the same thing.
"They left it open and just leave." She said in a daze before locking with grey eyes. Arya was already on her feet when someone suddenly walk by their cell.
It's not the guards but a slave. He didn't even chance a glimpse at the two women and continue walking along the hallway in a haste. Deciding that she should do the same, Arya push the metal door further and step out for the second time. More of the slaves are walking towards the path that she took before she fought the Manslayer. She guesses they are heading towards the arena.
"Where are they going?" Daenerys asked softly. Her voice close. Arya ignores the older woman and starts walking, joining the others. She can feel Daenerys following her from behind.
The guards are still there by the large opening at their post, watching silently as the other slaves walk pass them and head to the clearing. Their hands at the hilt of their club, ready for any defiance. As Arya steps into the arena, the first thing she sees is a bucket of water. And then some more. There were located at the middle of the ground where the others already huddled around. Washing and drinking to their hearts content. She scans the area and notice the two guards still guarding the main door, separating the outside world with theirs.
A flash of silver hair caught her eyes then and she snapped her head at the back but found no Daenerys by her side. When she looks ahead again, the said woman is already by the main door, talking with the two guards.
What is she trying to accomplish? Talking her way out of here?
Arya shakes her head. Partly amused and partly impressed by the older woman bravery. Instead of heading towards her, Arya walks towards the source of water. Her thirst overpowering everything else at the moment. She grabs a pail of water and gulp it down sloppily. She let out a sigh of content as the cool water slide down her aching throat.
Deciding to make good use of the water, Arya reach for the clean cloth on the ground and damps it with the water. She wipes her face first and then her hands and arms. The once clear water now murk with blood and dirt. She proceeds to her body then, lifting her cloth just below her chest. Arya winced at the sight of her stomach and ribs. It was marked with an angry bruised. Gently, she wiped the damp cloth over her injured abdomen. The cool cloth provides little comfort but she is not one to complain.
Her senses suddenly in alert as she felt a rush of movement across the clearing. She glances up to find all the slaves looking at a small group of people a few feet from them. Arya decides to do the same and instantly recognizes one of them. Daenerys stands there with three other slaves that surrounds her. She looks so out of place among the others and her being there alone, attract attention.
The three men that circled Daenerys all have a look of hunger across their face, as if they are ready to pounce at their victim any moment. Arya searches around for the guards only to find them already aware of the situation. By the way of their stance, it seems like they don't have any plan to stop the incoming attack on the defenseless woman. It was like they had anticipated this all along.
Is this what Qazlas planned? To let his slaves, do his dirty work?
Arya frowns then. She looks away and continue her unfinished business. Trying hard to squeeze the water out of the fabric.
Well, she's not my problem.
Laughter erupts from the group of people and Arya involuntarily snaps her head at them to find that Daenerys already sprawled on the ground. One of the man has her pinned down and at that scene, something within her snap. Her teeth clench so tight that it hurts and her mouth twitching with rage. She didn't even realize her feet has taken off and as she strides pass the other slaves who stood watching, her hand reach for the littered bars of soap that the guards conveniently left for them.
Her eyes never leave the man that was on top of Daenerys. When he is clear within her line of view, Arya takes aim and throw one of the soap at him with all her might. Within seconds, the soap hit him right on the head, successfully tearing him away from Daenerys. He moans in pain while clutching his bleeding head with his hands.
All heads turn her way. The other two slaves shot her look of confusion as if they were asking if she is really interfering. At that, Arya picks another piece and throw it again to one of the man, hitting his chest, confirming their suspicion. The two men shift their attention and make way towards her with anger radiating from their body when she just interrupts their fun.
She backs away as the two men closing in. Her eyes darts around for anything that can give her the upper hand. With the wet cloth still in her hand, Arya takes a handful of soaps and wrap them around the cloth, making her very own personal weapon.
Swift as a dear. Quick as a snake. Fear cuts deeper than sword.
She replayed it over and over her head like a prayer and it gives her the surge of energy she craves. She stops backing away and let them come to her instead. Eyeing the empty bucket not far, she reaches for it and quickly throw the wooden pail on one of the man. Unprepared, he stumbles backward as the pail land on his head while his other companion charges towards her. Arya ducks away swiftly as his fist caught nothing but air. She swings her cloth full of soaps then, successfully hitting his side. The man groan in response at the weight inflicted. Arya waste no more time as she swings again, this time to his head. He fell on all four just as his other companion strides forward with faltered steps.
Finally noticing his friend lying on the ground, grunting with pain, he lunged at Arya. But, of course the smaller woman prepared for it as she quickly side stepped any advance from him. It was just like when she did her water dance. The fact that she had smaller frame than her opponent makes it easier for her to dodge and harder for him to hit the target. She twists and turns some more until her opponent let his frustration get the best of him. At that, Arya put all her force into swinging her weapon at his opening. The weight hit him hard on his unguarded head and he fell flat onto the ground, unconscious.
Arya drew in panted breath as sweat trickle down her forehead. She clenches her jaw tight, trying not to let anyone know she's hurting. Each intake of breath only worsens her already broken ribs. Gripping her weapon tightly, she scans the area searching for anymore enemy that wanted to try her. Other than the two men that she had beaten and another one that still whines over his bleeding head, no one seems to want to step in and follow the fallen men's footsteps. She glares at each one of them and intentionally let out a threatening growl just to be sure and not a moment after, the other slaves disperse and head on to continue what they were doing before the commotion.
Arya instantly relaxes her stance at that. Her eyes naturally dart toward Daenerys and finds that she is still on the ground staring back at her, awestruck. Finding no threat surrounding the older woman, Arya turns around and walks away, intending to finish what she started. All the more, now that she got dirty again.
*
She had a plan now. And after the incident earlier that day with the other slaves, it only strengthens her next course of action. Now that Arya knew this is real and never a dream, she intends to find out the truth. She wants to know what happen to her other family. To Jon, her mother, Robb and Rickon. And even Bran, if he ever got away from the Lannister raid. She needs to know. By staying here, she would not gain any of that and so she decides to escape one way or another.
Back at her appointed cell, Arya instantly removes pieces of cloth that she had collected from the arena where she purposely hid and tied around her leg. Luckily the guards paid her no attention as she picks each cloth they provided for her personal needs. At the hem of her breeches, two long rusty nails – which she gathered along the brick wall outside – join the now pile of cloth. Arya reaches for two clothes and tied their end together, tightly.
"Thank you, Accalia… For earlier." Daenerys voice suddenly echoes making Arya stops her action. She nearly forgot the woman's existence as she's too caught up in her own world.
"Just say anything you wish, and I will fulfill it once we're out of here – If it's within my power." Daenerys continues. Arya tilts her head and stare at the older woman with a raised brow.
My wish is to get home. Can you fulfill that Daenerys Targaryen?
She asked silently. Daenerys only stares back at her dumbfounded by the reaction she gets. Arya let out a soft chuckle then, shaking her head.
Never mind. I'll do it myself.
She looks down again and proceeds to reach for another cloth and tie its end to the already tied piece of cloth, making a rope of her own.
"Accalia, what are you doing?" Daenerys asked in a hush tone, slowly sliding towards where Arya sits.
Arya frowns as she heard the name but continue her work anyway, ignoring her question. She can feel the older woman close to her now. Close enough to make out what she is making.
"Are you planning to escape?" Daenerys asked with disbelief. "You are planning to escape." She declares after a few moments. Her voice echo along the cell making Arya glares at her.
Tell the whole world, why don't you?
"How are you planning to do that?" Daenerys asked again, frowning. When Arya didn't answer as always, she continues. "I don't think this is a good idea, Accalia. I know you can fight well but there are guards everywhere. You cannot fight them all by yourself. Besides, the door is locked. How are you going to get out of this cell anyway?" she finished, breathless.
Silence stretch before them as Arya proceeds tying another cloth between them.
"Accalia, you are only going to get yourself hurt. It would not be wise to act alone. If you just – "
"Arya."
Daenerys blinks hard at the younger woman, wondering if she heard it right or was just dreaming of it. Arya looks up, staring evenly at the silver-haired queen. Her voice sounds foreign even to her ears. She swallows another lump dryly before opening her mouth again.
"My name is Arya."