Chapter 28

The wind snapped and howled around them, pulling and yanking on her thin cloak. Feeling the cool vial clutched in her hand, Arya took a breath and stepped through iron gate. "I'll be out soon," she said, knowing that Jaime stood just behind her on the other side. She heard as the gate shuddered closed, leaving her alone in the eerie grey light.

The path curved and twisted through the slick black rock, and as she walked further and further along, her footsteps seemed to grow louder, echoing through the shadowed passage. As the path turned sharply to the right, a white-hot heat caused Arya to gasp, her fingers snapping open. The vial fell from her palm and smashed into the stone, sending glittering shards in every direction.

"Fuck," Arya hissed, crouching down. The blood, her blood, seeped from the shattered glass and onto the stone ground. Great, my only protection in this damned place—

"Who comes to our home?"

Arya's head snapped up, her eyes darting around the passage. "Who's there?" she called out, willing herself to not be afraid. She felt for the dagger at her belt, the one Jaime had slipped her before leaving.

Something cold rushed past, sending her hood whipping across her face. "Who bleeds in our home?" the voice hissed, causing the hair on her neck to stand up. "Who bleeds?"

Her limbs leaden with fear, Arya turned on her heel. Leaning against the inky rock was a…a woman? Arya wondered. No, something else. A shadow. She was the color of a storm, with ash grey skin and hair the color of lightening cracking open the sky, blinding white with veins of purple. She was beautiful, deadly, dangerous.

"Well aren't you going to offer me any?" The whispering, wind-like voice was gone, replaced by something slightly teasing and effortless. The woman raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"I—who are—what do you want?" Arya stammered out, the dagger at her hip forgotten.

"Didn't I make myself clear?" she replied, pulling her pale lips into a pout. "Blood, dear girl. It's been ages since…" the woman trailed off, licking her lips. "And I want to be feed."

With one last look at the woman, Arya stepped back over to the shattered vial. Swallowing back her fear, she dipped her fingertips into the warm pool and cast a look over her shoulder. She approached the shadow woman, coming to a halt before her. "Is this what you want?" Arya asked, looking up. The woman was almost a full head taller than herself, with light grey eyes that shone against her almost translucent skin.

"Beautiful," the woman purred. She grabbed Arya's dripping and trembling hand and dragged her tongue across the pinky. Arya shuddered but did not pull away as she proceeded to lick off every drop. With a satisfied hiss that sent shivers up Arya's spine, the woman kissed off the last drop and threw back her head. "Thank you! Thank you, my dear. That was…electrifying."

"Who are you?" Arya whispered, casting a look at her stained hand.

"They call me Asra, Queen of the Shadows," she said in mild indignation. "More like Queen of the Dammed and the Dead. But I've never been keen on titles, Arya Stark of Winterfell."

The name sent another course of fear racing through her veins. "You—you know me?"

Asra huffed and gave her a haughty smile. "Why do you thing I wanted to taste you, my dear?" she said, grabbing Arya's hand and kissing her sticky palm before dropping it back down. "Shadows, as you humans call us, can learn everything about a person with just a drop. Now you, my sweet girl," Asra tailed her finger down Arya's cheek, "required a bit more."

"So you know what I want," Arya said quietly as heat flamed across her face.

"Of course I do," Asra breathed out, lifting Arya's chin. "You want him."

Him? "No," Arya started, confused, "I'm looking for the drago—"

"Do not lie to me," Asra snapped, her grey eyes flashing the color of her hair. "Or that little snack you brought won't suffice to keep you safe." Suddenly she pulled away, her eyes returning to their normal color. "Play a game with me, and I'll give you what you seek."

"And if I lose?" Arya shot back, crossing her arms.

Asra smirked. "Then you stay. Welcome to hell, my sweet girl."

"Fine," she said, frowning. "What game?"

"Oh, just some questions, really. I ask you something, and you answer. But if you lie," she said, holding out her palm, "and I always know when someone lies, then you lose. Simple."

Arya fingered the dagger beneath her cloak. No, you can't fight. They're just questions, after all. "Ask away."

Another smirk. "Why do you want the eggs?"

"They're for the dragon queen, Daenerys Targaryen. I do not know why she wants them."

"And you have…no other reason? No other plans?"

Arya shifted uncomfortably, her eyes downcast and studying her boots. "I…I am waiting for her "dragon king". I made someone a promise…"

Asra nodded. She already knows. "And once this king emerges?"

"I'll kill them both," Arya whispered, clenching her fist. "I have to…or else I sacrifice myself. It is my duty."

The queen reached out her hand and pressed it against Arya's chest, right above her heart. "Then why does your pulse race so?" Asra breathed out, her fingers pressing deeper into Arya's chest.

Arya looked up, blinking back the tears stinging her eyes. "Do not make me say it," she pleaded.

"Tell me, Arya. Or you lose."

The fingers dug deeper, far deeper than any human could. They bit into her flesh, her bone, her heart. "If I do my duty…if I kill the dragons or myself…I will lose him. And I…" she felt a tear fall from her lashes, "I love him."

Asra pulled her hand away, instead placing it under Arya's chin. The queen brushed her pale lips on her cheek, kissing the spot where the tear streaked down. "And now you have won. Come with me, my broken girl. I will give you the eggs."


Finally, another chapter! I know this one's a bit…strange, perhaps, but I really wanted something interesting to go down here with Arya. Anyways, I'm really curious as to how my readers find this story and why you stay (thank you!). Comment down below, I'd really like to know!