Four people tried to stop her as she crossed the room. The first two she managed to escape from painlessly, promising they'd talk later. The third, couldn't take the hint and seemed oblivious to Daenerys's need to be elsewhere. Finally, she ended it by interrupting something the man was saying. "That's good," she said, unsure if it really was. She hadn't heard a word. "If you'll excuse me, I have urgent business."
Manners dictated that she should wait to be dismissed before moving on, but she spun away so quickly her hair might have struck him in the process.
A middle-aged woman was the fourth and final obstacle Daenerys had to face. She stopped listening as soon as the compliments started. Putting the time to better use, she looked around the woman, hoping for a glimpse of Arya. She never would've known it was her turn to speak had it not been for Missandei's elbow against her side. How could she provide the response when she didn't know the question? The answer of course was Missandei. She chose that moment to 'drop' a handful of loose coins. "Apologies Princess, m'lady."
Daenerys squatted down next to her friend and they began speaking in High Valyrian as they rounded up the money. "Say thank you," Missandei instructed, "and then compliment her generosity." Missandei smiled almost slyly, a rare look for her. "Trust me. Now stand up and reprimand me for speaking High Valyrian in front a woman who doesn't understand it."
She didn't want to do it, to let Missandei take the blame, but as they straightened up, the slave nodded in encouragement. "There you go Missandei," she said as convincingly as she could. She passed over the coins she gathered and continued, "Please remember this is Westeros, in front of others, refrain from using Valyrian, it's rude."
"Of course, Princess," Missandei said, looking down and bowing her head in submission. "Apologies m'lady," she said to their guest.
"Oh, that's quite alright. I didn't understand a word, but it sounded quite lovely."
Daenerys couldn't help but marvel at the way Missandei managed to charm yet another unsuspecting stranger. "Now, where were we?" she asked rhetorically. "Oh yes, thank you for your kind words, and may I say, your generosity is inspiring."
Not surprisingly, following Missandei's advice proved wise. The older woman blushed, then said, "It was nothing Princess, I was just following your example. I am sure you have many people to see, so I won't keep you, but I do hope we see one another again soon."
"I'm sure we will," Daenerys said as she and Missandei slipped away. Once there was a suitable distance between them, she wondered, "What did she do that was generous?"
"Her house gave food to the needy in the Riverlands."
"That is a good cause," she acknowledged.
"It is."
"I'm sorry I had to yell at you. I should have been paying attention and then…"
With a light laugh Missandei shook her head. "It was my idea."
"Still," Daenerys protested. She wasn't ready to let this go. She didn't like being upset with Missandei, even if it was pretend. The large number of people around to see and hear only made it worse. Daenerys and Missandei may have known it was fake but none of the others did and they were building assumptions about Missandei on that faulty information.
"I knew why you weren't listening to her, and it's okay. Arya's needs are more important."
They were in agreement there. It happened off to her left, a couple walked away, opening a clear line of sight between where Daenerys was and where Arya and Tyrion were talking.
She grabbed the bottom of her dress to allow her legs to move quicker and hurried over. Missandei was a step behind but Daenerys had faith that she'd catch up. When she got close enough to listen in, any relief she felt disappeared.
"You heard the King," Tyrion said, "I'll need to deduct half your pay."
He didn't mean that did he? Tyrion wouldn't do that to her, he liked Arya.
Arya replied without feeling, "Get on with it then."
"Well then," Tyrion began, before stopping to clear his throat. "Half of…"
"Don't you dare!" she snapped, coming to stand between them.
The dwarf and the guard wore matching expressions Daenerys couldn't comprehend. They looked amused, as if they were in the midst of a joke that was nearing completion. Her eyes went from Arya's face to Tyrion's and then back to Arya's. She checked twice, because it didn't seem possible, but she was smiling.
"It's okay Princess, the Master of Coin is just doing his job." As she spoke Arya turned her head away from Tyrion, giving Daenerys the full force of that smile. It stole the air from her lungs.
"Distasteful business," Tyrion noted.
"Then don't do it," Daenerys interjected. She hadn't been able to help before but this, with Tyrion, maybe she stood a chance. "You're a busy man, it would be understandable if in all the excitement of the day, you forgot to make one entry in your many ledgers."
Already smiling, Tyrion's happy expression grew wider and more pronounced. While she tried to understand, she was distracted by Arya's hand grazing her lower back. It was the same way the guard touched her to steer her in a crowd, but this time there was no one to avoid, she was just directing Daenerys to stand closer. She definitely didn't mind anything that brought her and Arya together. After the adjustment, they were standing close enough for their shoulders to touch, making it easy for Arya to lean down and whisper, "Trust me."
All the Princess could do was nod dumbly, too caught up in the hand still resting on the small of her back, too mesmerised by the smooth words spoken directly into her ear.
"Forgive the intrusion m'lord," Arya said formally to the Lannister. "You were saying?"
Tyrion looked between the Princess and the solider for a moment. He was enjoying something about all this and seemed eager to prolong it. "Yes, well about that, I agree it is unfortunate, but I am sworn to obey the King's commands, and so I must deduct a value of half from your wage."
Daenerys expected Arya's smile to falter, but it didn't. She wanted to try again to convince Tyrion not to proceed but Arya asked for her trust, so she'd give it.
"How much will that be?"
"Well," Tyrion said, "your current salary is zero, so half of that would be… zero, I suspect."
If she hadn't been so focused on finding Arya, maybe she would have realized her pleas were unnecessary. She never stopped to consider that Arya wasn't being paid. She had little to have taken by the King's decree.
She so rarely had to deal with money that it didn't occur to her, as a result, she caught onto the joke too late. She expected Arya to be distraught, furious or some combination of the two, but instead she finds her tucked away in a corner of the room with Tyrion, joking over her misfortune.
"Think you can remember to put that in your books?" Arya teased.
"It's a lot of zeros, but I'll somehow manage to keep it straight."
"You're joking about this?" Daenerys asked hotly, her frayed nerves finally unravelling.
"Not much else to do," she remarked offhandedly. As she spoke, she applied a bit more pressure to Daenerys's back, almost as if she wanted to remind the Princess she was there. "Tyrion here snared me after your father left and we hid ourselves here."
"I was looking for you," Daenerys admitted quietly.
"That's my fault Princess," Tyrion jumped in, taking the blame. "You know how these jackals can be." He held out his short arm and waved it over the room of nobles. "Everyone wanted a word with the famed deserter. I thought Arya might appreciate being spared all of that, so I got to her first."
She didn't like Tyrion calling Arya a deserter, even if it was a jest, but apart from that she could see his words had merit. Many in her father's court had grown just as bloodthirsty as their leader. She could only imagine how some would react, coming to witness an execution only to have both sides leave unscathed. Not only that, rumors would begin soon, if they hadn't already. Twice now Arya Sand was called before Aerys Targaryen and twice, she lived. People were going to love to talk about why.
"I do appreciate it Tyrion, truly. My day was harrowing enough without being tossed to the court like meat thrown at a lion."
The Lannister smiled at the reference to his house. "Vivid imagery, but not inaccurate. Some would want to be your friend, others would want to hate you and I think a handful intended to proposition you."
And just like that the air she was breathing was incompatible with her body. She coughed and covered her mouth as she choked.
Arya had been laughing at Tyrion's depiction of the court but stopped abruptly when Daenerys began coughing. "Are you alright?" Her hands went to Daenerys's waist to help support her weight. From behind Missandei provided a cloth while rubbing her back.
"Are you well Princess?" Tyrion asked. He sounded genuinely concerned, but in his eyes, she saw understanding. She felt exposed.
"Yes," she said, glad her face was still red from her coughing fit. It would make it easier to hide the blush. "I'll be fine."
Satisfied, Arya stepped back, removing her hands from Daenerys completely for the first time since they were reunited. Mercifully, she didn't go far. "Missandei of Naath."
"Arya Sand," she countered.
The friends wore matching smiles. "Thank you for what you did. I know it wasn't easy…"
"It was the right thing to do," Missandei justified.
"Not that I'm not grateful," Arya continued, "but I don't remember the conversation happening quite like that."
Watching Missandei shrug and offer up nothing else was the only proof Daenerys needed. "You lied?" she hissed. She hadn't meant it to come out as harshly or as accusatory as it did.
Before either woman could make the next move, Tyrion reminded them where they were. "Not here," he warned.
The group had things to discuss, but whatever hung between them, Tyrion was right, this was not the proper place for it. "Drinks upstairs?" Daenerys suggested.
"We should change our clothes first," Missandei added.
"That's a good idea." Daenerys wouldn't be sad if she never saw this particular dress again, which was probably a good thing, since it was likely too damaged to salvage. Her time in the throne room gave her something else to focus on, but she remained cold and damp, chilled to the bone. She assumed Arya felt much the same way, though the solder would never admit it. She'd been outside much longer than the Princess. "Okay, everyone can meet in the sitting room near my chambers when they're ready."
Tyrion seized the opportunity to ease some of the tension. "Spend my afternoon with three beautiful women instead of alone in my office with only numbers? I'll drink to that."
R-C
They sat in a private sitting room with the doors closed. Tyrion found and poured the wine, and everyone waited. Arya could see they all had questions on the tips of their tongues, but they were holding them at bay until someone broke the silence.
She wasn't sure how to feel. She managed to keep her identity hidden from the Mad King and half of King's Landing without losing her life, but she was disappointed that Daenerys now knew where she'd been. When she presented Daenerys with her nameday gift it would hardly be a surprise.
In addition, other things didn't make sense, like how Aerys knew she was gone in the first place? It wasn't uncommon for Arya and the King to only see one another at dinner, and yet within hours of her leaving the keep, he prepared her welcome and arranged a trial. Did he have someone following her? She'd like to think she would've been able to spot the offender if she had a shadow, but it wasn't a guarantee. Another possibility was that the stablemaster reported to the Hand or the Spider, but that too seemed unlikely since the man had been terrified too. If he knew it was going to happen, she would have expected him act more composed. Someone had to tell the King, but who and why?
"You lied," Daenerys asked Missandei directly. It was softer this time, and more controlled with none of the hostility they heard in the throne room. Apparently, everybody was ready for the answers to their questions. Arya set the mystery of how she'd been found out to the back of her mind and gave the room and her friends her undivided attention.
"I didn't lie exactly, I just exaggerated a bit," Missandei explained.
"What does that mean?" Daenerys fired back, clearly not appreciating the vague non-answer.
The slave's dark eyes found Arya and asked for permission to share the details of their conversations. Arya didn't mind. The surprise was ruined, and that particular secret was out. It wouldn't harm anyone if Tyrion and Daenerys learned the truth. She nodded.
"Arya and I did speak about your nameday and the conversation was, as I said. I told her she wasn't required to buy a gift, and she said she wanted to."
When attention shifted to her, Arya reached for the wine in front of her. She drank slowly, hoping the delay would prompt someone else to speak, so she wouldn't have to.
Missandei had more. "Arya did tell me she intended to get you something and I suspected that's where she'd gone this morning."
Tyrion put the pieces together first, likely because he wasn't bogged down by all the conflicting emotions Daenerys was battling. "Suspected, but didn't know?"
Missandei unfolded her hands in her lap and set one on Daenerys's forearm. "I didn't want you to worry, but I also didn't want to spoil the surprise."
"The King did that," Arya said under her breath as she set her cup down.
"No, he didn't," Daenerys disagreed. "I still have no idea what you got me, or why you'd go to so much trouble."
If she was going to explain why she chose to buy Daenerys a present, it wouldn't be when Missandei and Tyrion were there. "I appreciate your understanding, Princess."
It was clear Daenerys had more she wanted to get off her chest, but she broke eye contact with Arya and found Missandei instead. "Thank you," she said, "I wish I were half as brave as you."
Missandei shrugged again, trying to minimize her contributions. "He wasn't going to stop, until he had proof, so I gave him some."
She made it sound so easy. Arya knew from experience it wasn't. Facing the Mad King took courage and Missandei had more than most. "You saved my life. I'm in your debt."
"This was certainly not how I thought the day was going to go," Tyrion commented casually as he refilled his wine. He went around from seat to seat, pouring as the ladies apologized to one another. By the time he was done, so were they. Everybody had shared their side of the story and was up to date on things from everyone else's perspective. At least for the time being, the questions had been laid to rest. She couldn't speak for anyone else, but Arya was glad that none of this mess was going to damage their friendships. In the throne room when Daenerys accused Missandei of lying, Arya thought she was the weapon that caused irrevocable harm to the bond between the women. It was a comfort to know they'd be okay.
Arya and Missandei hugged first, then Missandei and Daenerys and then finally Arya and Daenerys. When Daenerys had her arms securely around the guard, she tried to apologize. For what, Arya didn't know, she didn't let it get that far. "I'm sorr…"
"Later," she whispered back, "we'll talk later."
Postponing difficult conversations hadn't been a habit of hers, not until she met Daenerys. Now the list of topics that awaited them kept growing longer. She knew she couldn't outrun things forever, and she wasn't opposed to talking about it, but they weren't alone now.
"So, is that the end of it then?" Tyrion asked the room. Somehow, he'd fallen into the role of mediator and between sips of his drink, he appeared suited to it.
Missandei looked at Arya first and then Daenerys before nodding that she was content with things as they were. Daenerys said so verbally and then it was Arya's turn. She wanted to agree, to talk about something else, but that nagging question from earlier came back. "I'm good, there is just one thing I don't understand."
"What?" Daenerys inquired.
"The King and I do not cross paths often," she said as a preface to her point. "The days I see him before dinner are rare, and yet somehow today, on the first and only day I've ever left your side, he knew quick enough to have men ready to take me at the stable?" She took a deep breath and considered emptying her wine before she thought better of it. A clouded mind wouldn't make this puzzle easier to solve. "It might be nothing, but it just seems unlucky that today is the day he decides to check on me."
Their faces told Arya everything she needed to know. Daenerys was surprised. She clearly hadn't given any thought to how they'd been discovered. Now that she was, she was finding the problem just as vexing as Arya.
Missandei was more logical and composed but with equal determination. With a furrowed brow, she was chewing her bottom lip, lost in thought as she sought the answer that escaped them.
Tyrion was methodical, approaching the problem from a different angle. "Did you tell anyone where you were going or why?" he asked her.
"No, I didn't expect it to take as long as it did, so I thought I'd be back before anyone noticed I was gone."
"Why? What are you thinking Tyrion?" Daenerys pressed.
"Very few people can get to the King on such short notice," he stated. "He had meetings this morning I'm sure, so who could interrupt his meeting and inform him about Arya? Who would want to?"
That was a fair point and it clarified things for Arya. She knew exactly who had told Aerys she was away from her post and she knew why. Angry as she was, she didn't want to expose him and cause Daenerys pain. She did her best to remain composed when she said, "It's not important and I'd really like to talk about something else."
"Of course," Daenerys agreed.
"Tell me about Dorne," Tyrion chimed in.
Something about the way he said it had her uneasy. It was like he had been waiting all day for the opportunity. She took an immediate liking to Tyrion, but his father was one of the handful of men there on the day her family went before Aerys. It wasn't unthinkable to assume he and by extension his son knew what became of the survivors. Had he put it together? Was he gathering evidence, trying to prove a theory or did he already know? "What would you like to know?" she asked carefully. She reached for her wine and pushed it away. If she was going to be subtly interrogated by the Imp, she needed a clear head.
"Everything, I've never been. Is it as foreign as books make it sound?"
"To us it's places like King's Landing that are foreign," she told him. She held her breath and watched his face for any signs he knew. She'd given him an opening, a big one, she labelled herself as Dornish and now she just had to wait and see if he'd correct her. If he knew she was Arya Stark, then he knew she grew up in Winterfell and that Sunspear was just as strange to her as it would be to him.
Tyrion laughed without a care. "That's fair. I've always wanted to go, but it's so far away, and I don't really like sand, so I always put it off."
Arya relaxed, if only slightly. Tyrion appeared sincere, suggesting that maybe his interest was truly academic. She'd need to tread carefully, but if he wanted to reveal her secrets, he wasn't going to get many better chances than the one he just let pass.
R-C
Three hours later, Tyrion was quizzing Arya about the Sand Snakes. Since learning she not only knew Oberyn but trained with him, that became the center of his focus. Slowly, she let herself relax and enjoy the peaceful afternoon after a brutal morning. With each story, they laughed and joked, and slowly Arya forgot about her concerns that Tyrion knew more than she wanted him to. She doubted anyone, even a Lannister could be so skilled a liar as to not give a single hint.
"You've met all of them, all eight? I assumed at least one of them was a rumor he didn't correct."
"There are plenty of rumors about them," she confirmed, "but they do exist."
"And they have their father's talent for weapons?"
"The eldest definitely do, and I imagine some if not all of the others will as well."
"We can attest to that," Daenerys added. "We saw the older three girls spar while we were there."
"Really? What was it like?"
"Obara is her father's daughter to the bone, she uses a spear, just like him," Arya held up one finger as she began her list. "Nymeria favors her mother's whip."
"A whip?" Tyrion verified skeptically. He was studying her closely for any clue she was exaggerating.
"I'd never seen anything like it," Daenerys shared, "Ellaria told me she got her ability from her mother."
"I never met her, but Oberyn told me she was beautiful and deadly. Like mother, like daughter apparently."
Arya hadn't meant to call Nym beautiful, though she was. She was only repeating what Oberyn told her, and any time they discussed Nymeria's mother, those were always used to explain the attraction – deadly and beautiful.
Not wanting Daenerys to misunderstand she tried to get the Princess's attention, but she refused to look Arya's way.
Sensing an opportunity to unsettle the Lannister she gave more detail for the third daughter. "Tyene has her father's taste for blades and poisons. He tutors her in what to coat her daggers in."
"I'll never forget the first time I heard a man he dueled died within hours of the match, despite having only a minor wound," Tyrion remembered. "Naturally I thought it was shit. People die, it wasn't the Prince's fault if the prick he cut had a weak heart," Tyrion paused for effect and then finished his thought, "but then it kept happening. Time and time again anyone who fought him and managed to survive would fall ill soon after."
"That's why you took the venom from the snakes right?" Daenerys guessed.
She didn't get to confirm her motives, because there was a knock at the door. It shattered the easy peace they were enjoying and reminded all four of them that there was a real world beyond the sitting room beckoning.
Missandei looked poised to answer it, but Arya was quicker. She jumped up before the handmaiden could inconvenience herself. A young boy of about eight with brown hair and green eyes was waiting in the hall. "Apologies," he said in a well-practiced manner, "is Lord Tyrion inside?"
She gave the boy a smile and opened the door wider. "Lord Tyrion is in here," she told him, speaking loud enough for the Master of Coin to hear. "Come on in." The boy looked uncertain, so she stepped back and waved him in.
"Aidan, what are you doing here?" Tyrion asked when he saw who had come looking.
"Apologies m'lord," he said, studying the floor, "but you wished to be informed when the guests from the Stormlands arrived."
Tyrion's posture softened some. "How did you find me?"
"I checked your office, then your chambers, then the throne room, then …"
He put a hand on the boy's head, messing his already unkept hair. "That's a lot of checking, you must be tired. Go get yourself something to eat and then you can rest." From a pocket he produced two gold dragons and handed them to Aidan.
He took them carefully, afraid they'd break or vanish before he could make contact. "Thank you m'lord," he said, unable to look away from the coins. "Can I be of any more service?"
Tyrion shook his head. "Not today, come to my office tomorrow and I may have work for you then."
"Okay, I will m'lord, thank you."
Tyrion chuckled as his hireling hurried away. "What was that about?" Daenerys wondered, saving Arya the trouble of needing to ask.
"That's Aidan, his parents are dead, and he's alone, so I pass him a few coins for his help around the office."
She knew Tyrion liked to act indifferent and cold, but there were times when it became clear he did have a heart in there somewhere. He didn't have to help Aidan, but he did. Arya was living proof that the smallest things could make a big difference. Two coins meant nothing to the Lannister, but she doubted little Aidan felt the same way about his new windfall.
"You asked him to let you know when the Musgoods arrived then?"
Tyrion chuckled and shook his head, looking at the open door Aidan fled through. "I thought I'd be in my office. I didn't mean for him to go door to door around the Red Keep searching."
She felt badly for the boy. There were a lot of doors between Tyrion's office and where they were drinking. His expression made it known Tyrion was thinking the same thing. It couldn't be helped. Tyrion had tried to do a good thing, and he didn't know when he gave Aidan his 'job' that the King was going to accuse Arya of treason. He couldn't know he wouldn't go back to his office. The child was equally blameless. He probably wanted to impress Tyrion by doing exactly what he was told. Other servants would have given up after a few minutes or a few rooms, while Aidan remained determined to prove deserving of the money Tyrion offered.
Arya hoped humor would alleviate some of his guilt. "You can't teach that kind of commitment," she remarked, "I'd keep him around, if I were you."
His only reply was a short laugh and a nod, but she got the impression he appreciated her attempt regardless.
"The Musgoods have arrived?" Missandei posed it like a question, but it wasn't. They all heard what Aidan said.
"It seems so."
Ashara Dayne's visit and the potential dangers involved had been a worry that consumed her earlier in the day. Since then, there had been a lot of other things to grab and hold her attention. She'd allowed herself to forget about the Dornishwoman's visit and relish a few hours of much needed peace. That was over now. So soon after surviving one life threatening situation, the Gods tossed her into another.
"I need to go by the barracks and get my armor," she said to no one in particular, "hopefully it'll be dry by now." If she was going to do this, she'd be needing her helmet.
R-C
Arya stayed back when Jon Musgood and his family made their introductions. There were ten visible guards, probably twice as many outside, a collection of servants and the nobles themselves, Jon, Ashara and their children.
They retired to a sitting room to rest from their travels and Arya breathed a sigh of relief. Just when she was beginning to think she'd worried for nothing, Ashara looked up, picked hers out of all the faces in the room and smiled. Arya responded with a stiff nod. Her instincts warned of danger, but Arya tried to temper that with restraint. It was unrealistic to think she wouldn't notice Arya at some point. Likewise, the Martell armor she wore did stick out amongst all the three-headed dragons.
It was just before dinner that Ashara stood, kissed her husband's cheek and went to speak to someone. Arya paid her little mind, falling into her role as Daenerys's protector. With so many strangers about, she had to be extra vigilant.
She didn't think about Ashara again until the Lady of Storm's End was standing right in front of her. "A fellow Dornish," she said in greeting. Arya needed a moment to gather her wits. Ashara was nothing if not beautiful. Arya didn't know her in her youth, but she doubted she looked better than she did now. No, it was more likely that Ashara was just one of those rare people who somehow got more attractive with time.
"Indeed m'lady. I am Arya S…"
"I know who you are," she said at her normal volume, before she took pains to quiet her voice. "I remember you."
Well then, at least she wouldn't have to worry for days if the former Dayne knew her. She appeared to prefer getting right to it. "You'd be forgiven for forgetting m'lady, it was a long time ago and …"
"Lady Musgood, I didn't know you knew Arya, though I should have suspected. Did you meet at the Water Gardens?" Daenerys inquired. She must've seen them talking and come to save her guard from an uncomfortable conversation. Arya didn't think she realized just how badly that rescue might be needed.
"As I said, it was a brief meeting, long ago, I didn't expect the Lady to remember," Arya minimized.
"How is she doing as guard Princess?" Ashara asked. "Many in Sunspear are waiting to hear."
Daenerys smiled warmly, first at the guest and then at Arya. "She's great," she declared, "the best guard I've ever had."
She bowed her head slightly. "You are too kind Princess."
Ashara reminded them she was there by saying, "I admit, I had a motive for coming over to say hello."
Daenerys tried to catch her eye, but Arya looked at the woman who could expose her and no where else. "Oh?"
"You've seen Dorne much more recently than I, I was hoping you'd be willing to spend a few minutes sharing news from home."
"Home?" Daenerys repeated.
Ashara justified her request with a guilty looking smile for the Princess. "I like Storm's End well enough. I love my family and our people, but I don't know if it'll ever be home." She shifted her gaze to Arya. "The place we're born will always have a hold on us, no matter how old we get or how far we travel, don't you think?"
She chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she couldn't take back. By directing that comment to her and not Daenerys, it was clear she was testing the guard. She'd gone out of her way so far, to keep Daenerys from learning Arya's origin, but could she count on that to continue? She could have told the room already, or sent word privately to the King, but she hadn't, she'd come to Arya directly and begun playing games.
"You are probably right," she started, ignoring the taste of blood on her tongue, "where we come from does matter, but it isn't everything. Sometimes, where we end up is more significant."
She waited anxiously to see what Ashara's response would be. Her posture softened and she grinned. "You may be on to something," she acknowledged. "Could you spare a few minutes to indulge an old woman anyway?"
"Of course, m'lady. Ask and I will try to answer what I can."
"I appreciate that." To Daenerys she said, "You've got yourself a good one here."
Daenerys agreed, unaware of the tension. "Yes, I do."
"Would you mind accompanying me outside?" Ashara asked, pushing her luck. "I'm in need of some air."
She wasn't sure. It wasn't coincidence that Ashara wanted to speak to her in private, but abandoning Daenerys didn't seem like a winning strategy either. She'd already been accused of desertion once today.
"It's okay," Daenerys assured her, "I'll be right over there with Aemon and Missandei."
Arya sought them out, so she'd know where to look to find Daenerys upon her return. "We can do this later," she proposed, not wanting to leave Daenerys alone if it made her uncomfortable.
"I don't mind," she said without much feeling, a complete reversal from the next words that were brimming with emotion. "Don't take too long."
"I won't," she promised. She watched Daenerys walk away, hoping those weren't the last words they'd get to exchange. She tried to make sense of Ashara's behavior but couldn't. As far as Arya knew she hadn't told anyone what she knew. She had ample opportunities to inform Daenerys but didn't. She could have avoided Arya all together, said nothing and gone back to Storm's End after her visit with no one the wiser, but she hadn't done that either. She walked up to Arya on the first day and made enough veiled comments for Arya to assume she knew everything. Why do that, if not to tell?
The rain had stopped at some point, but Arya couldn't appreciate it. "You have the look of your father."
She wasn't going to bite. She said nothing, she didn't move or even blink, she just stared. If Ashara wanted a reaction it would take more than mentioning her father.
With a weak little huff, she folded her hands together in front of her. "Nothing?" She paused just long enough to confirm Arya wasn't willing to contribute and then carried on. "Very well, let's get the big things out of the way, I know who you are, I know why you're here and I have no interest in telling either of those things to anyone."
"Why not?" she felt obligated to ask. The Daynes prospered after Robert was dead. She imagined revealing a traitor in his castle would lead to more rewards from the King, so why wasn't she eager to claim them?
"I have no desire to see you killed," she admitted. "Whatever crimes your father committed, he more than paid for them. It would benefit no one to compound the tragedy."
That was twice she mentioned her father, so Arya made an educated guess. "You knew my father?"
"I did," she verified with a sincere smile, "he was a sweet boy who grew into a kind, fair man."
She wrestled to regain control of the emotions talking about her father brought to the forefront. There would be time to miss him later, for now she had more urgent problems. "How did you know?" She asked because if Ashara solved it, others could too. Was it just a matter of time before someone else with a more sinister purpose realized her identity?
"I received a raven for Oberyn Martell several weeks ago. He learned of my intention to come here and requested that I check on you."
Hearing her reasons all the aggression left Arya's body. Oberyn sent her. She'd come as a friend not an enemy. "I'm sorry," she said hoping it would make up for her attitude. It wasn't enough, so she kept going. "Thank you for assisting Oberyn and I, and for keeping my secrets."
Ashara remained just as genuine as she seemed discussing Ned. "Royalty or not, they don't need to know everything."
"I'm grateful for your discretion m'lady."
"I'll send word to Oberyn as soon as I can, letting him know you're well, and I can pass along any other messages you have, if you wish." She got to the end of her proposal and then circled back to the beginning. "You are well, aren't you? You and the Princess seem to be getting along."
The fact that she was almost executed that day not withstanding, she really was okay. Oberyn needn't worry. If Ashara only knew because he told her, then it was likely that she would get through the remainder of her time in King's Landing without too much difficulty. "The Princess is great. If I have to guard someone, I'm glad it's her."
With motherly understanding that had her missing Catelyn Stark, Ashara replied, "She is a remarkable young woman."
They stood together on the balcony overlooking a garden below. She thought they were done until Ashara made another point. "Before we go back inside, you should know I have room for one more on my return to Storm's End. If you choose to accompany us, I'll provide safe haven for you until Oberyn arrives. Once he joins us, he'll escort you to Essos or wherever else you want to go."
Knowing who Arya was and saying nothing about it was a crime, but one that could be explained away. If pressed on the subject Ashara could insist she wasn't certain Arya was Ned Stark's child. What they were discussing now was different. There was no way to talk yourself out of helping a traitor's daughter flee the King. If Ashara did this and was caught, it would have ramifications for her entire family, deadly ones.
"Why would you do that?" Unlike the last time, this was devoid of accusation or skepticism, in its place was curiosity. She knew why Oberyn was risking his neck for her, but why would Ashara do it?
She tried to make light of the very serious topic. "Apart from wanting Oberyn in my debt?"
"Yeah, apart from that."
"I'm doing it for your father, because I know if he were here, it's what he'd want me to do," she confessed.
"Were you close?"
"Not especially, we could have been, maybe, but our lives took us in different directions. When your grandfather and uncle were killed, he married your mother and we ended up on different sides of the war, but he was a good man. He did not deserve what happened to him, none of you did."
She still had questions, but the major ones had been resolved. She knew what Ashara knew, how she learned it, and her intentions. Most importantly Arya knew she came with Oberyn's blessing. Her friend wouldn't involve Ashara unless she could be trusted. If Oberyn had faith in her, that was good enough for Arya too.
They waited another minute before opening the heavy doors and stepping back inside. They said nothing on the short walk to the sitting room, at least until they were about to go their separate ways. "Thank you," Arya whispered.
"There she is!" a strong voice called from near the Musgood family. Arya traced the sound to its source and recognized the man.
Ashara marched to him and throw her arms around him. Once she was done hugging her brother Ashara moved on to Ser Barristan and then Rhaegar. She took more care with the Prince, not wanting to cause him pain, but her enthusiasm was evident. "If it isn't three of my favorite people," she gushed. "Don't think I didn't notice none of you were here to greet us when we arrived."
"Apologies sister," Arthur said, "we had hoped to be back…"
She was pulled from the Dayne family reunion by Daenerys's hand snaring hers. She looked down at it, and then the woman attached. "Are you coming to join us?"
Arya didn't know what she was agreeing to, nor did she care. If Daenerys was asking, she'd go. "Of course."
"I thought you might have forgotten where we'd be, so I decided to come and get you."
Her pale cheeks turned pink as she explained her reasons and Arya was struck by how much more attractive it made her. "I appreciate that," she said squeezing their joined hands, "lead the way."
R-C
Twice Arya tried to excuse herself, to return to the barracks, but each time Daenerys was there, asking her to stay. Dinner had gone well. The King was lucid enough to welcome his guests and carry on coherent conversations. Ashara's past with many in the keep gave her plenty of people to talk to, and much to say beyond the typical trivialities discussed at meals. She reminisced with her brother, teased Selmy and joked with Rhaegar. She brought her children into the conversation often, steering things so her daughters and son would be able to talk about the things they enjoyed.
As soon as she was able, Daenerys excused herself, claiming it had been a long day. The Musgoods didn't take offense and no one who knew of the events dared disagree. Usually once the Princess was in for the night, Arya was free to go, but not this time.
Missandei left to go see Grey Worm, taking Daenerys's empty teacup away with her. This left them alone, for the first time all day. "Is something wrong?" she inquired softly, hoping to begin the dialogue.
Daenerys had her back to Arya's chair, looking out the window at the dark sky. "So many things," she admitted, "I don't know where to start."
The pain in her voice was obvious, and it broke Arya. She got up and went to her friend. Without thinking about the consequences she hugged her from behind, closing her hands together in the center of Daenerys's stomach. "It's okay," she whispered as soothingly as she could, "everything is okay."
When she turned in Arya's arms, she had tears shining in her gorgeous eyes. "It's not. Nothing about this is okay. My father, he…"
She used a thumb to wipe away the first tear that fell. "Your father is sick," Arya finished for her. "What he does, why he does it and the pain he leaves in his wake, none of that is your responsibility."
"How can you say that? I'm his daughter! It's my fault you're here. I am a Princess, I should have said something, Missandei did, she lied to the King and I didn't say a word."
As she gave in to her emotions and began to sob, Arya held her tighter, letting her get it out. She could only imagine how hard it was for Daenerys to go through the rest of the day, playing the part of the perfect Princess when she felt as she did. They were alone now, and Arya required exactly nothing of her. If she wanted to cry, scream, or rage Arya would let her. "Just breathe," she instructed, kissing the top of Daenerys's head.
"I wanted to, so bad," she explained, in between body-rattling sobs. "I did, you have to believe me, but I couldn't." Any progress she made in calming down evaporated.
"I do believe you Daenerys, I promise. I do." She leaned back just enough to see her face. "I know you wanted to, I never doubted that."
"You didn't even look scared," Daenerys noted after she'd regained a measure of control.
"I wasn't scared," Arya confirmed seriously, "I was angry."
"About what?"
"Angry that man wanted to kill me again!" She cursed herself for saying the word 'again'. She hadn't meant to but there was something about being this close to Daenerys, about listening to her honest, heartfelt confessions that prompted Arya to give her own. For that reason, being with Daenerys might be the most dangerous place in the world for her.
"That man is the King," she pointed out. There was no anger or annoyance in the message, just a statement of fact.
"So what?" Arya retorted. "Kings are supposed to be better than us. They are supposed to lead by example, not fear. Just because he sits on the Iron Throne doesn't make him flawless, just as it won't mend your brother when it's his turn."
Daenerys had stopped crying and although her cheeks were red and streaked with tears, she looked breathtaking. "You don't approve of Kings?"
With a shrug she told her opinion on the subject. "I'd kneel before a good King. I'd fight for a just King any day, I'd die for him, but a bad one, I think having no King is better than having a bad one. Giving any one man that much power is dangerous, we shouldn't do it unless we believe he is what's best for all people."
"Westeros has always had a King, Arya."
"Yes," she acknowledged, "and look where that got us. Would today have happened if the King of the Seven Kingdoms was a fair man?"
She meant it to be rhetorical, a thought for Daenerys to consider later when thinking about the Realm. Her intentions didn't matter however, because Daenerys was brave enough to address it head on, and then speak the truth. "No, it wouldn't have." She settled back into Arya's chest before she added, "Arya I'm s…"
"Don't," she said forcefully. Kissing Daenerys's silver hair again in an effort to take any sting out of her rebuke. "We've been through this, you don't need to apologize for him, not to me, ever."
"I don't deserve you." It took a moment to understand. Daenerys was pressed so close to her breastplate that it came out as little more than a confusing mumble.
If she could choose her legacy, the one thing left behind after her time in King's Landing was done, she'd want it to be that Daenerys finally learned she wasn't to blame for the acts of others. She worried that after she left there would be no one in Daenerys's life to remind her that her father's sins weren't hers to carry.
If she could have a second wish, it would be rid Daenerys of thoughts like her last one. Arya was hardly a prize, and even if she were, Daenerys should aim higher. "You're wrong," she said gently prying Daenerys off her armor so they could see one another. "You deserve the best of things and all the happiness life can offer. If there was any justice in this world, you'd have the freedom to chase your dreams, that is what you deserve Daenerys, but I was all they had available on short notice."
Her self-deprecating joke missed its mark. Daenerys didn't hear it. She just stared into Arya's eyes with a peaceful smile on her face. "You really mean it, you aren't just saying it, you really think that."
"I do mean it."
"I know." As soon as her reply was out, Daenerys was moving. She leaned in, filling the gap between them and connecting their lips. Arya knew she should have pulled away, or at least not kissed back but she was only human. The sensation of Daenerys's mouth on hers was better than the many times she imagined it, awake or asleep. She wasn't surprised, she knew herself, and knew her brain wasn't creative enough to accurately predict such a moment.
Not even the feeling of Daenerys kissing her cheek prepared her for this. That, she could have explained away as a friendly gesture, despite knowing it was more. This, there was no mistaking, this was romantic. Since the consequences for kissing the Princess would be the same if it was a short kiss, or a prolonged one Arya allowed herself to savor it, doing her best to match Daenerys's passion. It would never happen again, but the memory would always be hers.
Like her, Daenerys seemed determined to make their kiss last. The first few times she tried to back up, Daenerys refused to let her. When it couldn't be avoided their kiss ended and they were both left gasping for much-needed air. Daenerys's hands, which had been in Arya's hair were now balled into fists and pressed against her stomach. "Fuck," she muttered, "I'm sorry Arya…"
She hadn't looked up, in fact she appeared to be trying hard not to, so Arya adjusted her height to realign their eyes. "Didn't we talk about apologies?" she teased.
Like it was connected to a string that had been sharply yanked Daenerys's head whipped in Arya's direction. "You said not to apologize for what other people do wrong, but what about when it really is my fault?"
She knew she couldn't be with Daenerys, but she felt a sharp stab of pain when she heard Daenerys's regret. She knew the Princess belonged with someone more appropriate, and not just because she was a foster or a Stark. She'd promised herself she wouldn't allow things with Daenerys to go beyond friendship until she was honest about who she was. Now they had, and it left Arya stumbling around in the dark for a foothold. Was it too late to stop what was happening between them? Did she want to stop it? Could she reveal her identity now or had they passed the point of no return? If Daenerys felt betrayed, would she go to her father or brother and tell them what she knew? "Did that feel wrong?" she asked, hoping to buy herself the necessary seconds to organize her thoughts.
Daenerys's serious expression broke into a smile. "It was wonderful," she said, before she caught herself, "but it isn't just about what I want. I kissed your cheek the other day and it scared you. I can only guess what you must think of me now."
If she only knew what Arya thought of her. Maybe it would make what was coming next easier. "I know we haven't talked about it, I said we would, and we didn't."
"I understand," Daenerys assured her, "you probably didn't know what to say." Her bright smile long gone, she sounded dejected. Arya didn't like the change one bit.
"I didn't know what to say," she agreed, "and it did scare me, but not for the reasons you think." She took Daenerys's hand in hers, although she couldn't say who it was meant to benefit. She hoped Daenerys would take comfort in her touch, but Arya also needed to feel a connection to the woman who was fast becoming the most important person in her life. "I like you Daenerys, I think I did right from the start."
A humorless chuckle escaped her barely parted lips and she gave Arya's hand a squeeze before she laced their fingers. "You hated me in the beginning," she corrected.
She couldn't deny that, not yet at least. To tell Daenerys her true feelings, she'd need to go back long before they met in the Water Gardens. "I wanted to hate you," Arya clarified, "but I never managed it."
"Why?" the Princess wondered. She inched closer to her guard and hung on every word spoken.
This was her moment of truth. She could tell Daenerys or not, but she would likely never get another opening as clear as this one. Part of her wanted to share her past, all of it with someone she cared about. That that someone was a Targaryen was almost irrelevant. On the other hand, she'd learned to protect herself. Long before Oberyn taught her the spear or she gained the respect of her fellow recruits, Arya was well versed in self preservation. Could she put herself out there for Daenerys, or anyone? Could she undo years of hard learned lessons and be vulnerable with a woman who had the power to heal or destroy her? She honestly didn't know. One thing she was certain of, was that tonight, like this, was not the right time to make the decision one way or the other. She'd nearly been executed, she and Daenerys were both emotional and she had that kiss swimming around in her mind, tainting everything. Potentially life altering decisions would need to be postponed.
Since Daenerys was looking for a reply, she sidestepped the question all together and continued her larger point. "Even when I didn't know you, when I wanted to dislike you, I still thought you were beautiful." She could see Daenerys preparing to ask again, to question what about her had inspired Arya's visceral hate, so she hurried to move them to safer ground. "I thought if you were just a pretty face, I could ignore it, but then I got to know you. The day we spent at the orphanage in Sunspear, that's when I knew I could never hate you."
Daenerys kept her questions to herself and just smiled at Arya's admission. "I thought you were stunning," she recalled, "the moment you took off your helmet."
"I was covered in blood," Arya noted with a smirk.
"You were, and somehow you were still gorgeous."
Her face heated up, hearing the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen compliment her. "I wanted to talk to you after Harvest Time, I tried, but I didn't know what to say." Again, she saw Daenerys preparing a response, her lips were opening, and she was raising her empty hand as if to physically knock down Arya's argument. "I was just trying to find the right words, and I guess I ran out of time."
"To tell me what, that you don't want to kiss me?" She said it in a humorous way, like she was fishing for another compliment, but Arya knew there was some genuine curiosity there too, hidden underneath. She felt bad, she never meant for her conflicted emotions to cause Daenerys so much grief.
"To tell you that even though I want to, we probably shouldn't."
"Why not?" she whined, reverting back to the little Dragon Princess she must have been in her younger years. "The only way I've been able to keep from kissing you is because I thought you weren't interested."
There were other things she wasn't ready to share, but on this, she could be completely honest. "Of course I'm interested, I'm not the smartest woman, but even I'm not that stupid. You're practically the perfect woman." It was true too, while Daenerys probably thought it was her stubbornness or her temper that kept her from being utterly perfect, the only fault Arya could find was that she had the misfortune of being born Targaryen. Outside of that, Daenerys was everything in a partner the younger woman could want or dream of.
It happened exactly like before, and yet Arya was no more ready for it the second time. Daenerys surged forward, while pulling on Arya's hand to bring them even closer. Her free hand landed on Arya's cheek and before she could think, their lips were moving as one. The kiss was shorter, but more intense than their last. When they separated it was Arya who tried to speak first. "Daenerys."
"Oh right," she interrupted with a wicked smirk, "you were just about to tell me why that was a bad idea. Go on then, I'm sorry, you have my full attention."
Fuck. Who knew Daenerys could be so playful and sexy? It made Arya want to disregard everything she planned to say in favor of putting her mouth to better use. She couldn't. Even without being Arya Stark, there were real reasons the guard and the Princess shouldn't act on their feelings. "I'm your guard," she said feebly.
"I noticed," Daenerys countered, visibly enjoying Arya's discomfort, "that'll only ensure we have lots of time together. Maybe you can begin staying in my chambers at night," she proposed, "you know to make sure no one can get me."
She took a deep breath and tried to banish all the thoughts Daenerys's suggestions were planting in her head. "This is serious. My job is to protect you, it's important to me, you're important to me."
Her plea reached Daenerys and she changed at once. All traces of humor and teasing vanished and she matched Arya's expression. "I know, and that's why it's going to be okay. Who better to keep me safe than someone who cares about me? For any other guard I'm just a job, an object they need to watch over, but to you I'm more than that."
Daenerys's assertion applied to Jorah as much as it did Arya, but she didn't say so, confident it wouldn't help. "You will always be more than an object to me, I never saw you that way."
"I know, which is probably a large part of why I feel the way that I do."
"I can't protect you if I'm distracted by you," Arya contended. "I need to be watching everyone else, not you."
Instead of more flirting Daenerys pondered the question a moment. "Well what if I didn't distract you when we were outside this room?" She brought their hands up and kissed across one of Arya's scarred knuckles. "Nothing has to change out there," she said pointing to the door, "but in here, we can be who we want."
She was more than a little tempted. Although she was stubborn, Arya hadn't expected Daenerys to try so hard to convince her. Arya didn't think she was worthy of such an effort. Daenerys apparently disagreed. "You don't need to try to be distracting, you just are. Just being close to you…" She stopped talking, not wanting to confess the depths of her infatuation.
"You do it now," Daenerys declared, "your feelings didn't start today, did they? I can't imagine you found much time to be attracted to me between nearly catching your death in the rain, being accused of a crime and then put on display for the Musgoods."
"You'd be surprised," she said under her breath. She could tell Daenerys heard when she watched an eyebrow raise in question. With a sigh she told the truth, "No, it didn't begin today."
"Exactly!" She jumped into the air in a show of excitement taking the hand she was still holding along with her. When she was back on solid ground she elaborated. "You've been attracted to me for a while, and you've still managed to keep me safe. It'll be no different now."
She searched for a rebuttal but came away empty handed. Daenerys did have a point. Arya had managed to serve as guard and while desiring Daenerys. Mormont had done it too, for a lot longer than Arya, so she knew it was possible. She'd need to commit to it, to ensuring their relationship didn't affect her work, but if Daenerys was willing to assist her then the goal didn't seem as insurmountable as it might've otherwise.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing standing in their way. "You're a Princess and I'm a guard, I'm your guard."
"You are."
"If people found out, if your father…"
"It's no one's business but ours!" she insisted. "Out there, we can be guard and Princess but in here, alone, we don't have to be, I don't want to be."
What as being described was plenty appealing. For so long she'd been burdened by the labels of 'foster' and 'traitor's daughter.' She'd gotten used to them but couldn't deny that she yearned to step out from under those titles and just be Arya again. Daenerys was offering her that chance. "If they did find out, your reputation…"
"If that's what you're worried about, we can move on, because I couldn't care less about what the court thinks of me."
She didn't doubt that. It fit with the Daenerys she'd grown to know and care about. That Daenerys really didn't give a shit what some prissy noble thought. The real Daenerys cared more about the opinions of her friends, than some random Lord or Lady from an insignificant house. They only cared about her because she was a Princess, Daenerys preferred to focus her energy on the people who valued her as a person and not a royal.
"I'm leaving for Sunspear in a little while," she reminded the eager Targaryen.
"I know."
When that was all she got, Arya forged ahead. "Are you sure this is what you want? To spend a few weeks with someone knowing they'll leave?"
Daenerys fired back with a question of her own. "Do you not want to be with me? It seemed like you did before, but now you're looking for a reason not to. If that's true, just say so."
How had she let Daenerys think that? She felt horrible. "Of course I want to. You're amazing and anyone would be lucky to be with you, including me, but I just want you to be sure. I don't want to hurt you and I'd hate for you to regret anything."
"I won't regret it," she predicted with confidence, "and yes, you will be leaving soon and going back to your life in Dorne and I'll miss you, but I don't think that is reason enough to deny ourselves what we both want."
The more resistance Daenerys put up, the harder it became for Arya to try again to dissuade her. She hadn't lied, she did want Daenerys and if Daenerys wanted her then what was holding her back? She knew precisely what it was, though she tried to pretend otherwise.
"You're sure?"
Sensing an approaching victory Daenerys moved closer. "I am. You make me happier than I've ever been Arya, you listen to me, you treat me like a woman and not just a Princess, you make me smile and give me the strength to get through the long days here. I know we can't have forever, but we have now, and I don't want to waste it. I know you'll move on, and I'll probably marry one day, but I doubt anyone will ever be able to make me feel what you do. If this is the happiest I'm going to be, I want to make the most of it, with you."
If she had any other concerns, she forgot them. How had the Gods seen fit to bring Daenerys into her dark world? The truth was still looming over them like a cloud, but it seemed manageable now. After Daenerys's proclamation Arya didn't fear exposure quite as much. If her feelings ran as deep as they seemed to, she wouldn't be eager to tell anyone where Arya Sand truly came from. She may not be happy to learn the whole truth, and things between them might never recover but she wouldn't tell. The woman who claimed she was happier than she'd ever been because of Arya, the one who fought for the mere chance that they could have a moment together, she was someone Arya could trust.
Aware she didn't have words anywhere near as articulate or heartfelt as Daenerys's, she chose to express herself differently. She released Daenerys's hand and did her best to ignore the look of hurt on her face. With care she took hold of Daenerys and guided their mouths together. She moved slow, not only to build the anticipation but also to give Daenerys the chance to stop it, if she wanted.
The kiss was soft, but meaningful. Emboldened Arya drew her tongue across Daenerys's lips. She could feel the grin on her lover's face as her mouth opened and their tongues met. Arya took her time, knowing they didn't need to rush. This wouldn't be their only kiss, there would be more, and she was looking forward to every one of them. The knowledge that Daenerys wanted this as badly as she did, despite all the reasons they shouldn't gave her the courage to go after what she wanted. It was a perilous road, but one she wouldn't walk alone. For the first time in a very long while, she'd have someone with her every step of the way.
R-C
Author's Note: I sincerely hope that lived up to people's expectations. I know some wanted Arya to wait until Daenerys knew her story before they got romantic, and I did too, but the truth is still a few chapters away and I didn't think Daenerys would be willing to wait after Arya nearly died. For those who like Arya's honorable side, don't worry, she hasn't completely abandoned her principles - they won't go beyond kissing until Daenerys knows everything. That moment is coming, I promise.
On a completely unrelated note, I am currently writing the trip to Highgarden and I could use some input from the readers. Would I be right to assume the majority of people would prefer for Sansa and Margaery to be in a relationship when Arya finds them? Truthfully, I could write it either way, so I decided I'd let you all decide, a small 'thank you' for coming along with me on this crazy ride.
If you have an opinion one way or the other, let me know. Should be just one more chapter before Daenerys's long awaited nameday.
See you then
RC