Chapter 11 – Arya
Arya had been briefed by Jon on what was going to happen. She was to travel with him back north to White Harbour, and then go on back to Winterfell. Daenerys was going to bring all her forces north not long after. Arya had spent a few hours staying very close to the dragon queen – unbeknownst to her, of course, trying to find evidence that she would go back on her word. Arya wasn't sure if she completely trusted the Mother of Dragons yet. But she had been pleasantly surprised to find nothing – Daenerys genuinely seemed to have Westeros' best interests at heart and seemed keen to help everyone by assisting the North in the fight for the dawn. There also seemed to be a very tentative, well, interesting relationship blooming between the queen and Arya's own half-brother, which she couldn't help but be amused by, although she knew deep down that Daenerys would not commit herself on a personal level, but continue her pursuit of her goals. Arya knew Daenerys would make a great ruler on the Iron Throne, though she worried over the implications this would have for Jon, the Starks and the North. Arya didn't want to have to pull Daenerys down as quickly as she had Cersei, but family and home would always have to come first. No matter what.
Arya had begun to pack her few possessions back up into a small bag – her new dagger, along with the clothes she had come by in Kings Landing. She had never enjoyed packing, and she thought back to the bittersweet moment all those years ago. How frustrated she had been with her sister and Septa Mordane, so perfect in their ways, insisting she repack everything. How Jon had come in, sombre as always, saying goodbye before heading off to the Wall. The excitement she had felt, holding Needle for the first time, mingled with the sadness of knowing Jon was leaving, and that it would be a long time before she saw her favourite sibling again.
The young Stark girl smiled as she finished, the sweet memories of childhood still fresh in her mind.
Once finished, Arya decided to do another sweep around the island, honing her skills. She knew she wouldn't find anything out of place, but it was good practice and it was interesting to find out things about people. She strapped Needle back to her belt, donned her cloak and headed outside. They would leave Dragonstone tomorrow, and she admitted to feeling slightly fond of the coastal settlement.
Arya stood in one corner on the cliff, watching the sea. Within seconds, she recognised the presence of another figure, similarly clad in a cloak, visible by the shadows. Arya turned around but stayed hidden, to see Daenerys making her way down to the beach. Every few steps, the dragon queen would look over the steps, as though she was searching for someone. Arya frowned. She didn't look the commanding leader at the moment, but softer, and more vulnerable. Arya decided to make her presence known, just in case she looked back and thought she was spying on her.
"Who are you looking for, Your Grace?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound light and friendly. She had spent so much time talking expressionlessly, like the Faceless Men, so trying to get a tone back to conversation was something difficult.
Daenerys whipped around and was visibly startled. "Arya! You scared me!" But she smiled as she put one hand on her chest.
"Sorry," Arya replied, grinning too. "Lost something?"
"No," Daenerys replied. She looked a little shy, and perhaps still slightly shocked. "I was actually looking for you."
"Me?" Arya suddenly felt suspicious, and deeply nervous. If she was in trouble, it would be difficult to get out. What does she want? "Why?"
"I wanted to ask you a favour, if you don't mind," the queen said. "Would you come with me?" She indicated to go down to the beach.
Interest peaked, but feeling a little uneasy, Arya nodded. "Where will we go?"
"Somewhere that we will not be overheard, or seen – hopefully," Daenerys said. She looked at Arya and must have noticed her slightly narrowed eyes. "You're not in trouble. I just want help with something, and I think you may be the better person for the job."
"Alright," Arya replied. She didn't feel much comforted, but she made an effort to relax her muscles and look as though she didn't mind what she was doing.
The two of them continued down the long and winding path, all the way to the beach. Instead of continuing on round to the dragonglass mines, they went the other way. Along the coast was the lengthy rock strata, but further than that was a small, secluded space of softer sand, that looked untouched. Arya realised that would be where they were heading.
It was fun, crossing the strata. Daenerys and Arya both wobbled several times on the thin layers of rock, but it would be quicker to walk over it than around it. Arya was grinning broadly by the time they reached the other side, and the queen was giggling nervously from having nearly slipped over so many times. She kept looking over her shoulder, as though trying to make sure no one was watching her. A couple of Dothraki still stood on the other side of the strata. The queen raised her voice and spoke to them in a guttural tone; Arya did not know what she said but the warriors' response was to turn and leave, walking back to the cliffs.
She feels comfortable being alone with me Arya realised. Despite what I've done. But why? She frowned.
"I need you to help me," Daenerys started. "I know you're leaving tomorrow, but it won't be long before we meet again, and hopefully you can help me again then too."
Arya twitched one eyebrow. "What is it you want me to do?"
In response, the queen reached within her cloak… and withdrew a sword. Arya could not help but gasp in admiration. It was longer and thicker than Needle. The metal looked like it had been folded over many times in the forging, as though it had some kind of quiet magic to it.
Arya took a step closer. "This is Valyrian steel," she pointed out, even though it was obvious that this was no ordinary.
"Yes, it is," Daenerys said softly, looking with admiration at the blade. "I found it when I was going through some things, last night." She broke off and swallowed nervously, before lowering her voice to naught more than a whisper. "I think it might be Dark Sister."
Arya gasped excitedly, looking at the sword and at the dragon queen with a newfound respect and awe. "The one Visenya had!"
Daenerys smiled at her enthusiasm. "A fan?"
"Yes!" Arya breathed. "Visenya Targaryen was a great warrior. She had the Valyrian steel sword called Dark Sister, and rode Vhaegar into a hundred battles. And she was in charge of building the Red Keep…" she paused. "She was one of my favourites, growing up. Robb and Jon used to pretend to be members of the Kingsguard, like Ser Barristan and the others. But I always liked Visenya more."
"It is rare for a woman to also be a warrior," the queen acknowledged. "I must say, I always thought more of Queen Rhaenys and Queen Visenya than some of my other ancestors."
"You're a warrior," Arya pointed out. "It's true. Look how far you've come. And you've got dragons, just like they did."
"Some say that Drogon is nearly the same size Balerion was when Aegon took Westeros," Daenerys mused.
Arya was piecing together information in her mind. The sword. Visenya's sword. Being just the two of them together. Valyrian steel. Sword. Isolated…
"You want me to teach you to use it," she finally said.
"Yes," Daenerys answered, simply. "I saw your spar with Jon, and I could tell that he wasn't going easy on you. I know I could ask any of the Dothraki or Unsullied, but the Dothraki are not good with swords, and the Unsullied would be too scared to hurt me. I know you are loyal to Jon, not me – so you would not be scared."
"True," Arya agreed. "Plus Jon would be too scared of harming you as well. He was with me, to start with, until he eventually understood what I can do." She looked carefully at the dragon queen, and noticed a faint blush starting to creep in to her cheeks. "Plus it would just be awkward, wouldn't it?"
Daenerys laughed, but then changed the subject as her face reddened further. "How is your training with the Dothraki going?"
Arya thought back to a couple of days previously, when a Dothraki whose name she could neither pronounce nor remember had drilled her for an hour or so with the use of an arakh. "Not bad," she answered. "It is a whole new style of fighting, which is always a challenge, but I learn fast. Only problem is the language barrier, really."
"Fair enough," Daenerys said, then awkwardly looked down to the sword. "Am I even holding it correctly?"
Arya stepped forward and inspected the queen's grip, the same way Syrio had done, all those years back in Kings Landing. She adjusted Daenerys' fingers very slightly.
"I know it's heavy," she said, watching as a small crease formed in the queen's brow. "But once you're used to it, you don't feel the weight at all. It'll make you stronger, which in turn will make you better at using it."
"Alright," Daenerys puffed, now struggling to raise the blade.
"It takes time," Arya added. "If you have free time while you're in Kings Landing, just practice holding it, and not dropping it when you swing it. That's what my first few lessons were about, as well as attempting to strike. When you come North, we can practice again."
"I want to be good at it," Daenerys said, looking a little dejected. "I want to be of some use in the war to come."
"You will be of use," Arya argued. "You have three dragons and two different armies. You'll be way more useful to us than all the northern lords put together, most likely."
Daenerys smiled, looking a little comforted, and raised Dark Sister a few inches. "I think I'm getting stronger already."
Arya grinned back at her. "That's the spirit." She took a few paces back and angled her body and Needle in a ready stance. "Your sword is so much bigger than mine, so in theory, you should have the upper hand."
"But of course," Daenerys said sarcastically. "Upper hand, with all my many seconds of experience." Arya laughed and the queen tried to copy her. It wasn't a bad fighting stance, she just couldn't angle the sword properly. Arya motioned for her to stand sideways and lift her chin.
"I think you're going to need some more armour, too," she suggested. "And some more wintery clothing."
"I will," Daenerys sighed, still struggling with the weight. She brought up her other hand as a guide and tried to swing in Arya's general direction. She easily sidestepped and defected the attack.
Arya laughed. "We'll practice some more, next time we see each other."
"Good," Daenerys replied. With newfound friendship, the two of them clasped hands, before putting away their blades, and cautiously making their way back over the rock strata and back up to the castle of Dragonstone.
A/N: Hi everyone – thank you for reading again! I'm aware this chapter wasn't particularly good, but I really wanted to properly introduce a level of friendship between Daenerys and Arya and I hoped a shared admiration of swords and the Targaryen dynasty would be a good ice breaker.
I'm also really sorry that this chapter is late – so much is going on at the moment and trying to keep up with mock exams, assignments and work is quite difficult so I do apologise that sometimes this has to come last. But I definitely won't give up on this story until it is done.
For those of you asking about Gendrya – maybe later. And Jonerys – sooner than you might think.
Thanks for reading again, please review, and I'll get the next chapter written and published as soon as I can.
Until next time.