Was it over yet? Leave it to the Targaryens to find another way to torture her. What the Gods devised for her this time was especially cruel, having to stand there, close enough to hear her laugh, and see her smile knowing she and Daenerys could never be together. It was like being cut over and over again by a dull, rusty knife. No single slice did significant damage, but together, layered one on top of the next, they became debilitating. All she wanted to do was to get away, from Daenerys, from the castle and everyone in it, but she was trapped with no way out.
Daario absence wasn't enough to improve her mood. She didn't see him at the royal table or anywhere else. Him hanging off Daenerys's arm might've been preferable to the things her mind was thinking. Was he upstairs in her chambers, waiting for her in bed? Would she rush to him as soon as she could?
Arya wasn't stupid, she knew Daenerys had been trying to get her attention all night. Walking to the feast she apologized directly, but sorry wasn't going to fix this. In between the various speeches she could feel the eyes on her and knew they could only belong to one person. She steadfastly refused to meet them, however. She didn't have control over much in her life, she couldn't return to Dorne until the King released her, she couldn't avoid the Princes like she wanted to, but Arya could do this – she could get through the coming days and weeks until Viserys returned and then she could leave and never look back. She had a life waiting for her in Sunspear, one she'd worked hard to earn. It was going to be a challenge dealing with Daenerys going forward but she didn't have a choice. The most tolerable of her limited options would be to salvage what remained of her dignity and escape back to Dorne to lick her wounds as soon as possible.
After the main course and more speeches than Arya cared to count, it was Daenerys's turn. Missandei pulled back her chair and she stood. Her voice was clear and loud, easily reaching to the far corners of the big room. "First, I'd like to thank everyone for coming to celebrate with me today. I know many of you travelled a long way to be here. Whether you arrived by land or sea, I welcome you to the Red Keep and hope you enjoy your stay."
When struck by a stab of sympathy, Arya had to remind herself that she was angry with Daenerys. As she listened to her address her audience the guard noticed how forced she sounded. The nobles were too busy to pick up on how uncomfortable Daenerys looked, they were distracted by the conversations at their respective tables or the food they were gorging on. They didn't care, but Arya did. and she hated herself for it.
"In addition to a heartfelt thank you for all the gifts, well-wishes and visits I received today, I'd also like to thank the people in my life who have made this year the best one I've ever had."
Arya who had been studying the crowds turned and gave Daenerys more of her attention. She sounded less rehearsed now, more genuine.
"Some people think I'm perfect," she continued, "but I'm not, far from it in fact. I make mistakes frequently and I regret them, just like everyone else. I can't promise that things will be flawless, but I give you my word that I'll never stop trying, to be the best Princess, the best person everyone here deserves." Picking up her glass she raised it to the room. "As you all know, its customary to make a wish on one's nameday, so I will. It is my sincerest wish that a year from now I can stand before you again and tell you that once more I had the best year of my life. Until then, I bid you goodnight and safe travels."
As the speech ended Arya stared straight down at her boots. It was the only way to avoid the violet eyes seeking her out. Her traitorous heart invented a secret message meant just for her, hidden in Daenerys's speech. For a split second she allowed herself to hope she was right before she snuffed it out. Daenerys didn't care about her, she had Daario, everything else only existed in her mind.
R-C
"Thank you for agreeing to let me explain," Daenerys began.
"Thank Missandei." Arya's retort was cold and stiff. Daenerys had taken a seat, but Arya remained on her feet, with her hands behind her back. She wanted to know what part Missandei played in Arya hearing her out, but she had much larger concerns. She'd ask the handmaiden to clarify things later, after she'd shown Arya that her past with Daario wasn't indicative of the future.
"Would you like a drink?" she offered.
"I'd like to get this over with." She knew why Arya was upset and her feelings were justified, but Daenerys was hurt by those words all the same. Arya had never treated her so dismissively, not even when they were strangers.
She took a deep breath before sliding to one side of the bench she was occupying. "Will you sit down at least, please?"
She expected another curt refusal, but with a huff of annoyance Arya moved toward Daenerys and sat down. By moving to the side and making room it was obvious where Daenerys wanted her to sit. Without replying, Arya spoke volumes by choosing a chair on the other side of the table from the Targaryen.
The tension in her didn't leave even after she was settled. Her expression remained hard and her posture rigid. She had undoubtedly hurt Arya more than she realized. In their time together she'd learned to read Arya's grey eyes, to detect the subtle changes that revealed her mood. Looking now she saw a foreboding color, reminiscent of the sky before torrential rain. They called her 'Stormborn' because she came into the world during a night of unforgettable rain. Perhaps it was coincidence or maybe it was because of that moniker but Daenerys always loved lying awake listening to the rain against her window, hearing the rolling thunder and seeing the dark room illuminated by flashes of lightning. Storms reminded her how big the world truly was, and how small she was by comparison. She enjoyed that feeling because it gave her something to strive for – hoping that one day, if she was lucky, she'd find a place where she could disappear. In a world as big as theirs, there had to be one such place, right?
"Thank you," she said. Arya nodded but gave nothing else. It would be up to Daenerys to take the first step. She took another deep breath and started at the beginning. "I'm sorry you had to learn about Daario like that."
She paused just long enough to collect her thoughts and Arya jumped in. "You don't need to apologize, I understand."
No, she really didn't. "Please," she implored, "let me explain. I should have told you. I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, I'd forgotten about him."
She knew how her claim would sound, but Arya's scoff cut deeper than her sword would've. "You forgot your lover? Just how many do you have?"
Her face felt warm, but she pushed through any embarrassment. She needed to do this, not only for Arya, but for herself. She wanted to be with Arya, for as much of their remaining time as possible. That couldn't happen unless she did a better job of explaining herself. 'He was the only one, ever."
Across from her, Arya was suddenly taking the conversation much more seriously. "Then how is it possible you'd forget him?"
How was it possible? It was a reasonable thing to ask. Before she went to Dorne and met Arya, would she have thought she could've forgot Daario's existence? Probably not. "I blame you," she said to lighten the mood. When Arya's hard expression didn't crack, Daenerys clarified, "What I mean is that from the moment I saw you, I felt a connection to you, one I never felt with Daario."
"How can that be?"
"I don't know," Daenerys admitted, "and honestly I don't care. I was with Daario because I was lonely. He came here to kill me, you know. He murdered his friends instead and…"
"Wait, what!?" Arya erupted, needing more information.
"Daario was a sell-sword in Essos," she said, "he and his men came here to murder me. They had taken a contract on my life. His partners wanted to go ahead with their job, Daario didn't. There was a fight, he won."
With a grim nod, she was back to being distant. "Go on," Arya encouraged.
"The next day he pledged his sword to my father and he and his men joined the army."
"When did…"
She didn't need to hear the whole question to guess what Arya wanted to know. "That night Daario came to my chambers and pledged his loyalty to me. He said that although he was sworn to the King, his true allegiance would be to me."
"I see."
"I was lonely," she said again, repeating her earlier point. As far as excuses went it was pitifully weak but accurate. "When Daario showed a preference for me, not my father or my brothers, it was what I'd always wanted."
"And then you had it."
"I did," she acknowledged, "but it didn't last. Every time Daario cancelled our plans because he had to work, for my father or his mercenaries I'd feel marginalized and overlooked again."
"You stayed with him."
"Yes. because I didn't think I would ever find someone better. I wanted someone who put me first and who wasn't using me to impress my father or earn favor with my brothers, someone who didn't care about the wealth or the titles and chose me." She leaned forward and extended her arm toward Arya. "I thought I was being childish, that it was wrong to expect to find such a person, until I met you."
When Arya didn't immediately take her hand, she swallowed her disappointment and tried to coax a reaction out of her. "I was going to end things with Daario, even before I met you." She decided to skip over the fact that he loved her. "I didn't care for him as deeply as he did me, and I realized it was unfair to him. I planned to tell him so, but he was called away on some business for my father and he left before I could."
Arya wasn't swayed, so Daenerys used what she thought was her best and most compelling argument. "He knows now, I told him before the feast we couldn't be together anymore."
The surprise on Arya's face was almost as painful as her harsh words. Did she really expect Daenerys to remain with Daario after she'd confessed her feelings to the Dornishwoman? She'd made mistakes certainly, but she didn't think any of them would make Arya think so little of her.
"You did that because of me?"
"No," she said, meaning it, "I did it because it was long overdue. Daario and I shouldn't have been together, but I was lonely. and he was charming, so I gave in."
"That isn't the only reason," Arya predicted. It was slight, but there was an upturn in her lips, as if she was attempting a smile.
"No, I suppose not." She'd never confessed her underlying motivation to anyone before, but she could trust Arya with everything she had, even the bad parts. "My father wouldn't have approved, if he knew, and Rhaegar would have ordered him away."
"You liked that." It wasn't a question.
"After so long being the perfect Princess, it was freeing to step outside that role and be something else."
"And now you wish to rebel again?"
"What?" Hadn't she just told her that things were over with Daario? "No, of course not. It was a petty reason to begin with, and I'm past it. I want to live my life for me, not to get my father's attention or to tarnish my brother's opinion of me."
Arya set her hand into Daenerys's. She'd forgotten she was still waiting for Arya to make contact. She closed her fingers hard and fast, desperate to lock Arya in before she could change her mind. "Daenerys," she said, sounding like she wasn't angry anymore, "your father wouldn't approve of me either. I'm less suitable for a Princess than even a sell-sword."
That was what she was worried about? "I don't care what he thinks," she responded, willing Arya to believe her. "I was with Daario for months and no one knew. No one has to know about us either."
It was presumptuous for her to assume there was still a chance for them, but Daenerys was emboldened by Arya's rough hand against hers.
"You shouldn't have to live like that, sneaking around…"
She could tell where Arya's thoughts were taking her, and Daenerys refused to accept it. "Don't," she pleaded, her voice braking, "don't give up on me."
"You deserve…"
"To be happy," Daenerys finished. "Don't I?"
"Of course," Arya supplied, giving Daenerys's hand a squeeze.
"Then be with me, because no one and nothing has ever made me happier than you do."
"No one could ever know."
Daenerys could feel the grin spanning her face. She was going to say 'yes.' She would get to hold and kiss Arya. "It'll be our secret," she promised.
"Are you sure you want to? I'll still have to leave when…"
She wouldn't lie and say she was happy that Arya would be returning to Sunspear when Viserys and Eliza came to King's Landing for the wedding, but she did know that wasn't a good enough reason to deny them the happiness they'd feel. "I want to be with you Arya, for as long as I can. I don't want to waste another minute."
"What about Daario?"
"What about him?"
"Where is he now? Do you think he's just going to give up?"
"I don't know where he is, I told him to gather his things during the feast," she recalled. She looked around the room and noticed a few things missing. "He did." She applied more pressure to Arya's hand with her own. "He doesn't matter. If he is still here tomorrow, we will deal with it, but I think it's more likely that he'll take his sell-swords back to Essos."
"You're assuming he will accept this," Arya stated, "that he'll just give you up."
She was making that assumption, but why wouldn't she? She'd made her feelings known and if she wasn't interested in him anymore, why would he stay? "He will."
"I wouldn't," Arya countered. "I wouldn't walk away without a fight."
She wanted to be cheered by the sentiment, but memories of the past few hours were too fresh. "You did, when you learned about Daario, you were ready to give up."
"That's not the same thing," Arya contended passionately. "You and I have only had a few kisses, over a few days. You were with Daario for longer, I thought stepping back would be honoring your wishes."
"It isn't my wish, it'll never be my wish. I want to be with you, and only you."
When Arya stood up, Daenerys feared she'd inadvertently done something to upset their reconciliation. "It's late, you must be tired, you had a long day."
Long didn't even feel like a strong enough word to describe it, but that didn't mean she wanted Arya to leave. "You could stay," she proposed before she could wonder if it was too forward.
"Not tonight," Arya answered, sounding as pleased by this as Daenerys was. "We still need to talk about me."
Oh right. She'd forgotten all about Arya's concerns. Her nameday and the ensuing chaos stole all her focus. "We can do that now, I know you're worried, but I promise, whatever it is you have to tell me, it won't change how I feel." She told Arya something similar the last time they discussed it too, but she was unmoved.
"I think we've been through enough tonight."
"Then when?" Daenerys inquired. She was aware she was whining but couldn't help it. She wanted to be with Arya and if they needed to talk first, then so be it, she'd do that. It just needed to happen soon.
"Tomorrow evening?" Arya suggested. "We can talk and then if you still want me to stay with you afterward, I will."
Tomorrow? Could she survive one more night alone? She didn't want to, but she could if necessary. She didn't understand why this was so important to Arya, but she tried to accommodate her anyway. "Tomorrow then, but you better bring your things with you, because you'll be staying here tomorrow night."
With a chuckle, Arya tried to brush off Daenerys's ascertain. "I'll see you in the morning."
It was difficult to watch her go, but she took comfort from the knowledge that tomorrow night she'd fall asleep where she wanted to, in Arya's arms. Impatient as she was, she'd just have to persevere.
R-C
It was becoming a habit. That was twice now she'd choked on the words when she had the opportunity to tell Daenerys everything. Her excuses were flimsier too. First, she rationalized her delay by saying that she didn't want to ruin Daenerys's nameday. Now, she was telling herself the reason still held. Daenerys's official nameday may be over, but the real celebration was tomorrow. Arya wanted Daenerys to enjoy it without the truth hanging over them. She wanted to give Daenerys that, since it may be the last thing the Targaryen accepts from her.
Each time she thought about it, she ended up in this circular conversation with herself. Did she need to tell Daenerys? Was it worth the risk? What would happen if Arya didn't tell Daenerys of her family's role in the destruction of the Starks? Was her body trying to discourage her from opening old wounds? That would explain why she repeatedly failed to actually tell Daenerys the truth.
Knowing about Daario Arya considered using him as an excuse to keep things as they were. It would be easy to justify her inaction by saying Daenerys just ended one relationship, she shouldn't rush into another so soon. Daenerys would protest but Arya could be equally stubborn. The only problem was, she really did want to be with Daenerys, as badly as Daenerys wanted to be with her.
She understood exactly what the Princess meant when she said they had a connection from the start, Arya felt it too. She also agreed with the sentiment when Daenerys spoke of not wasting their one and only chance to be together. It wouldn't be forever, but did that diminish her feelings somehow? She didn't think so.
When she was a girl and Sansa was dreaming of which Prince she'd marry or which castle she'd live in, Arya felt none of her sister's fascination with marriage. On the rare occasions her mother brought it up, Arya was filled with dread. She didn't want to marry just because everyone else did. When she said as much, her mother would smile and say, 'You'll feel differently when you meet the right man.' Arya had her doubts. She knew sometimes noble marriages worked out well, as it had for her parents, but she heard of others too, the kind filled with violence and contempt, with bastard children and visits to whores. She didn't want that. She'd rather no marriage than a loveless one.
One of the things she liked about her life in Dorne was the lack of pressure to be wed. No one nagged her about getting older and remaining unmarried, not because she didn't have a family or because she was a foster, but because in Dorne marriage wasn't a prerequisite for love or happiness. Oberyn was the perfect example, he loved Ellaria even though they never married, and she returned his affection just as intently. His daughters, though all Sands were loved and cared for, by both Oberyn and Ellaria. She didn't punish the girls for the brief relationships their mothers had with Oberyn years before. In Arya's opinion the rest of the Realm could learn a thing or two from how the Dornish dealt with such matters.
She still had no desire to get married, and was just as comfortable being alone as she'd always been, but it seemed Catelyn Stark knew what she was talking about, because Arya had met someone and just as her mother predicted it changed her outlook dramatically. So why couldn't she just be with Daenerys as they were? The answer was as simple as it was complicated – if she was going to be with Daenerys, she wanted it to be honest. She couldn't lie next to her and make love to her and pretend to be Arya Sand. Daenerys deserved to be informed before she chose, anything else would be a lie. The honor her father instilled in her remained, as central to her as it had been for him. It would dishonor Daenerys, their relationship and Arya's feelings to climb into her bed without admitting her identity.
She'd started walking as soon as she left Daenerys's room. She didn't have a destination in mind, too lost in her own head to worry about where her feet were taking her. When she bothered to assess her surroundings, she was in the market of King's Landing. Most shops were closed, but a few merchants remained, packed up their goods for the night. Why had she come here? She didn't need anything, and even if she did, she didn't have much gold left.
It took a moment, but it eventually dawned on her, she did need something actually. Her eyes swept across the stalls hoping something would catch her eye. How could she decorate Daenerys's gift? A nice box perhaps, or a bow? She had to find some way to decorate it, she couldn't just walk up and hand her a few random documents.
Stall after stall, she walked away disappointed. She was just about to give it up as a lost cause when a breeze picked up and blew across her face. She wasn't the only one to feel it, a middle-aged woman with light hair and blue eyes was packing up her wares when the wind knocked over a display of silks. Arya was just close enough to catch the falling fabric. She clutched it to her chest protectively, aware of the dirt and mud around her. If the silk fell, it'd be useless.
"Oh, praise the Gods," the merchant said as she came to Arya's side. "Thank you so much. I usually have help but I let my daughter go early today, I should've known better."
"It's no problem," Arya assured her as she set the silk back on the table. "Can I help?"
"Oh, you don't need to, I'll be fine, and I couldn't pay you."
"I don't need pay, but perhaps you can help me. Do you sell ribbons?" The idea came to her when she was setting the silk down, she noticed the various colors and was reminded of the elaborate decorations nobles used to differentiate their gifts from all the others. Maybe she could use a ribbon to bind the pages, it'd look a lot better than giving them as they were.
"I do," she confirmed. She walked over to a chest that was already closed and opened it again. Arya was about to tell her not to bother, but the older woman was quick. "What color?" she asked holding out a selection for Arya to admire.
"Grey," she said without thinking, "if you have it."
It took her only a moment to find the right ones. She showed Arya four lengths of grey silk, differing in shade and width. She chose the one that reminded her of the long ago banners that hung around Winterfell. She'd blame her selection on the conversation with Daenerys that was looming, and her thoughts of both Catelyn and Ned Stark. "I'll take it," she told the merchant, "how much?"
"Help me pack up the rest of my supply, and it's yours."
Arya smiled. "Deal."
R-C
Only twenty notes in and she was already developing a cramp in her wrist. She'd be working until her next nameday at this rate.
Three signatures later she was saved by an insistent knocking on her door. Any question she had about who would be calling on her at so early an hour was overshadowed by her willingness to accept any excuse to abandon her desk. On the way to the door a second series of hard knocks rang out.
Having Arya be the first person she saw, improved her feelings about the day significantly. It was unusual for the guard to arrive before Missandei, but Daenerys didn't let herself dwell on that. Whatever her reason, the Princess would take full advantage of it. "Good morning," she said cheerfully as she pulled the Dornishwoman into her chambers.
"I'm sorry if I woke… you." Arya's eyebrow lifted and her confusion was visible in the set of her jaw and the crinkle of her forehead. "I didn't wake you," she realized, "why didn't I wake you? What are you doing up?"
It was probably rude to not answer her questions directly but there was a much more pressing issue that needed to be addressed first. She leaned into Arya's space until the guard's back was against the door and then she kissed her. She aimed to show Arya just how deeply she was missed. She was already excited, knowing that tomorrow morning she'd be waking up with Arya right next to her. As she prolonged the kiss and introduced her tongue to try and illicit a response from her lover, Daenerys wondered if this was the reason Arya came by. Was she as eager as Daenerys was?
When the kiss was over both women needed to refill their lungs. Any discomfort was well worth it when she saw the stunned expression Arya wore. She'd done that, she'd rattled the steady, composed soldier. "Good morning," she chirped, remembering she still owed Arya a reply to her greeting.
"No… not that I'm complaining," Arya stammered as she recollected her wits, "but what has you in such a good mood this morning?"
It hadn't been a particularly good morning actually, but it was beginning to improve. She shrugged, inadvertently freeing one of her shoulders from her thin, white robe. She didn't have to wonder if Arya noticed, because her eyes snapped to the exposed skin and stayed there for several long seconds. It took all of her self-control to not untie the belt and show Arya a lot more than just her shoulder. She wanted to but knew Arya had reasons to wait. She didn't know why exactly, only that it was important enough to Arya to turn down two offers to share Daenerys's bed. It wouldn't be long now, later today they would have their talk and after Daenerys reassured Arya, they could be together. She could last a few more hours. If Arya tried to postpone again however, she would not be responsible for her actions. "You're here," Daenerys declared happily, stating the obvious.
Arya's smile wasn't the slight, quick one she was used to, this was bigger and stayed in place. Seeing it and knowing she was the cause thrilled her more than stunning Arya did. She wanted to see this smile on Arya's face everyday, every time they were alone together. It made her look younger, more relaxed and unbelievably beautiful. Aware she'd be unable to resist kissing Arya's smiling lips, she didn't even try. She just pinned her to the door with her body and connected their mouths. She was rewarded with one of Arya's strong arms slipping around her waist and holding her close. With or without the arm Daenerys had no plans to move.
"Well," Arya said, recovering from another round of passionate kissing, "I may have to show up early every morning."
"No need," Daenerys retorted, "beginning tomorrow, you'll be here with me, so I won't even need to climb out of bed to kiss you good morning."
She tried to hide it, but Daenerys spotted the momentary hesitation before Arya buried it. Something about spending the night with Daenerys made her nervous and the Princess didn't think it was the sex. Daenerys was about to suggest they have their talk now, so she could set Arya's mind at ease and end her suffering, but Arya was faster. "Why aren't you sleeping? I thought you'd be exhausted after yesterday."
Daenerys was conflicted. She didn't want Arya to keep avoiding the issue, but she didn't want to rush her either. In the end, she chose to let Arya steer the conversation. Arya said she wanted to discuss things that evening, so Daenerys would wait. Her instinct was to force the issue now and get it over with, but this wasn't about her. She'd let Arya do this at her own speed, because she was confident nothing Arya was going to tell her would alter her feelings.
She waved her over and then led her to the desk. "I'm writing thank you notes for all the gifts I received yesterday."
Grey eyes narrowed as she reviewed the two distinct stacks, the unwritten, blank pages piled high and the much less impressive completed notes. "I don't think you have enough," Arya mentioned casually.
"There are more in the drawer," Daenerys explained, "I just took out the first hundred or so."
All the humor vanished from Arya's features. "You have to write a note to every person who left you a gift?"
"Yes, Tywin and my father insist upon it."
"That's torture," Arya said, growing agitated. "You didn't invite those people, you didn't ask them for anything, tell Tywin and the King to write the damn notes themselves."
It was a strange seeing Arya so fierce in her opposition to something as simple as thank you notes, but Daenerys quickly understood it for what it was. Her real complaint wasn't with the notes, but rather that Daenerys was required to write them. She was touched by Arya's defense of her, it rarely happened. After last year's feast Missandei commiserated with the Princess over her notes and kept her friend company while she completed them, but no one had taken such offense, the way Arya was.
"… ridiculous, I mean it!" Daenerys rejoined the conversation to learn she missed a large chunk of it. "Well forget about this shit, the notes and the nobles they are addressed to, all of it can wait. We have plans today."
"We do?" Daenerys was still catching up. She worried that she missed more than just Arya upset about her duties to her guests.
"We do," she confirmed. "Today we are celebrating your nameday."
She waited for anything that would clarify that statement, but nothing came. "My nameday was yesterday," she said quietly, feeling stupid for pointing it out. She gave a general wave in the direction of the notes as proof. "It's not my nameday for another year, praise the Gods."
"Yesterday was your nameday for your father, the court and the nobles, today is the celebration for you."
She was flattered by the gesture, but Daenerys didn't need anything more. She had too much already. "I don't…"
"I already spoke to your brother," Arya interjected. "We're going to spend the whole day doing things you actually enjoy."
How quickly change could come. Moments ago she'd been so sure that she hadn't wanted to celebrate her nameday again. What Arya was describing, in addition to being different from the formal festivities she was accustomed to, sounded perfect. "You shouldn't have…"
"It wasn't a bother," Arya supplied, pre-empting what would have been Daenerys's argument. "I couldn't save you yesterday, but I can do this, I can give you today, a nameday celebration you'll actually smile at."
"I smiled yesterday," she said weakly.
"No," she disagreed, "not your fake Princess smile, I mean your real smile."
She chuckled before she asked, "I have different smiles?"
"Of course you do, and most of yesterday was full of the stiff, insincere kind."
She was right, Daenerys knew the formal, polite smile she wore in public was a far cry from the real thing she showed when she was comfortable and happy among friends. With every word exchanged Arya provided evidence that she cared about Daenerys. She'd never had a discussion about her smile before, but there were a lot of things she was doing now that she hadn't done before she met Arya.
"Alright then, so where are we going first?" she wondered. It was obvious that Arya had put a great deal of time and effort into arranging this, and Daenerys was exceptionally grateful. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. She knew it was typical for people to be happy on their nameday, to anticipate it eagerly for days until it finally happened, but Daenerys had never experienced that. To her, her nameday was never more than a chore. Maybe she was going to discover what made namedays so beloved. She had planned to spend the majority of her day with Missandei and Arya writing notes, but what Arya was suggesting sounded much more appealing.
Her innocent question caused Arya's smile to falter and her eyes to shift to the floor. "Well, where we're going is a bit of a surprise, but if you want, I could give you your gift."
The gift?! She'd been so caught up with everything else happening lately that she hadn't given it much thought. Immediately after Arya confessed she left the keep to buy a gift, Daenerys had been curious, who wouldn't be, but before long there were things to do and people to meet, be it the Musgoods or the long line of visitors that came after. She remembered Missandei saying Arya had gone to get the gift, but when she returned, they went downstairs. Daario's arrival made certain the gift Arya bought didn't cross her mind last night either.
"I could wait, if you'd rather…"
She could hear the uncertainty in Arya's voice, and it pulled Daenerys from her mind and spurred her into action. She reached out and took her lover's hand. "You didn't need to get me anything. You shouldn't have spent your gold on me…"
"Stop," Arya insisted. "One thing Missandei told your father was true, she did tell me I wasn't required to buy you anything, but I wanted to." While Daenerys watched she reached under her armor and with unmistakable care produced a scroll held closed with a length of ribbon.
Without knowing what it was, Daenerys was already moved. Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she did her best to blink them away. It was clear that Arya put thought into whatever she was about to hand over. "Thank you," she said as she took the scroll with her left hand and wound the fingers of her right with Arya's. "Thank you so much."
"I know it's not dragon eggs, but I hope you like it."
"I don't even know what you got me yet, and it's already better than everything I received yesterday, including the dragon eggs," Daenerys informed her.
"You don't have to say that. I know you love the eggs, even if you don't like the man who gave them to you."
She recalled the overweight Magister Varys brought to her. "I don't know him," she specified, "but I don't trust him. Those eggs may have been given to me, but they were a gift to impress my father, so anything you took the time to select with me in mind will be better, no matter what it is."
Arya relented and nodded suggestively to the scroll. "Open it," she encouraged.
She was mildly disappointed when Arya released her hand but that was tempered by her curiosity. Now that the gift was in front of her, she was anxious to see it. What had been worth nearly being executed?
She carefully undid the knot and set the grey ribbon on the corner of her desk. The candle nearby combined with the early morning sun provided more than enough light to see the documents. She gasped when she unwound the page and saw the hand-drawn sketch of a ship. It was remarkably detailed from the dark wood that made up the deck, to the purple, unmarked sails and finally the name written on the side. "The Princess's Dream" she read aloud.
She was speechless. It was as if Arya had somehow taken the image out of her brain and had it drawn. She looked away from the paper and tried to see Arya, but her vision was clouded by unshed tears. She held them at bay earlier, but they were back with a vengeance now. "I don't know how you did this, but it's perfect."
Arya chuckled. "You haven't even seen it yet."
What?! Of course she had. Arya had a drawing commissioned of her dream ship. She looked at her lover and tried to decide if she was joking. Unconvinced she turned her attention back to the sketch. It was only as she raised it to her face for a closer look that she noticed the width. It was too thick to be a single page. Her eyes snapped to Arya before she used her thumb to separate the top page from the second.
If she loved it before, Daenerys didn't have words for what Arya had done after she discovered what was written on the second page, or the third, the fourth or the fifth. It was all there, from the type, amount and quality of wood used to make the hull, the colors of fabrics and paints. There were measurements and specifications for everything. The ship as a whole was outlined on the second page. The third contained details for the deck, from the helm to the sails, from bow to stern. The fourth page displayed pictures and descriptions of what would be below deck, including the crew quarters, the galley and a area for cargo. The final page was titled 'Captain's Quarters.' Daenerys had seen the room designated as hers on the previous page, but that had been basic measurements and accommodations, this was entirely different. There were illustrations of the various parts of her cabin beginning with the table and chairs inside the door and continuing on until they reached the Captain's bed. Daenerys remembered her conversation with Arya about the ship she wanted one day, but she never went into this much detail. Even in her own mind, she never considered what her quarters would look like, but despite that, Arya managed to design the ideal place, surpassing even Daenerys's own imagination.
She set the documents down carefully, so not to damage them. Her mind was a collection of disjointed thoughts and partially articulated questions. There was so much she wanted to know and to say, she was having a hard time choosing where to begin.
She could have stayed in that moment forever and been at peace there. She did what she could to memorize the details, what she was feeling, what she was thinking, all of it. She might have continued savoring, had it not been for Arya who appeared on the verge of panic. At first, she didn't understand, couldn't Arya see how much she loved it? She'd been right, Arya's gift surpassed any of the others she received. Then it occurred to her that she hadn't expressed any of her feelings to Arya yet, and she was probably assuming the worst. "I was right," Daenerys told her bluntly, "much better than dragon eggs."
"You don't have to say that, I know compared to the things you got yesterday…"
Daenerys needed to put an end to this. She glanced at the desk to make sure her gift was safe there and then she went to Arya. She was pacing a bit, so Daenerys set herself directly in her path. When she stopped in front of the Princess, she took both of Arya's hands in hers. "I meant what I said, those weren't for me, they were for the Princess. For ninety-nine percent of the people who showed up yesterday, they had motives that had nothing to do with my nameday. Some sought an audience with Tyrion, or Tywin, others wanted to negotiate with the King directly. As it was happening, all I could think was that I wanted just one person who came for me, one gift on that table filled with them, that was selected for me, not my father, Rhaegar or Tywin."
"Well now you have one."
"That's exactly what I meant, why I knew even before I opened it, yours would be my favorite, because you bought it for me, and me alone."
"You deserve some happy memories of your nameday." Arya had finished speaking but then provided more. "In those first few years after my family was taken from me, I wouldn't have survived if I didn't have my memories of all the good times we spent together to pull me through. I wanted to give you a few good memories of your own."
Daenerys was all about making memories and she was pleased to have this one with Arya. She would never forget this, any of it. She still had no idea exactly what Arya planned, but she trusted her to know what the Daenerys would like.
She put the day of limitless potential out of her mind for a moment and focused entirely on the here and now. She kissed Arya deeply, using her tongue immediately and working tirelessly to try and illicit a moan or better yet a muffled curse. What she got when Arya ended their kiss was a mixture of the two. "What was that for?" she asked after she licked her lips slowly.
Daenerys watched the tongue that had just dueled hers wipe her upper lip and slowly return to Arya's mouth. She was so focused on it that she forgot she was required to answer.
"Nothing to say?" Arya teased. "If a little kiss renders you speechless, we'll need to limit them, to ensure you're capable when you have important meetings."
Her relationship with Daario had been relaxed and carefree, but they had none of this back and forth, the give and take she noticed becoming commonplace in their interactions. She liked it a lot. "Maybe I'll just tell them my new lover makes it hard to think of anything else."
"Yeah, you could do that, if you wanted me to die," Arya replied, not joking this time.
"I'm sorry Arya, I didn't mean it, I just wanted to joke with you, I didn't think it through."
"I'm sorry too," Arya said, taking Daenerys's hand. "I knew you were joking, but I'm still a little uneasy."
That made sense, considering it wasn't long ago that Arya nearly lost her life before the King. She probably didn't see the humor in Daenerys's joke about revealing their relationship to the next noble she meets with. If her father ever found out there would be severe consequences for the both of them. In Arya's case the punishment could easily prove fatal.
"I can be known as the Mute Dragon," she said trying to salvage her morning. "As long as you keep kissing me, and looking at me like that, I'll deal with all the repercussions, even if I'm speechless."
"It'd be easier to just not kiss you, and therefore eliminate the problem."
"The easiest approach is not always the best one."
With a smirk Arya made sure she understood. "So just to be clear, you'd rather be mute in your meetings than stop kissing me?"
Did she really need to ask? If asked a thousand times, her answer would never change. Some things, some people were more important than others. Rather than try and explain that in a way that Arya could comprehend Daenerys pulled Arya with her, using their connected hands. When Arya had her back to the bed, Daenerys kept pushing. Although Daenerys gave a stiff shove to try and make her fall, she didn't even teeter. "Sit," she pleaded.
During their two second stand off Daenerys was left to wonder how she'd persuade Arya, if a simple request wasn't enough. Luckily a backup plan wasn't required, Arya sat down on the end of the bed.
She hadn't brought her over or sat her down at random, she had a plan, but all those details, the next steps she needed to take, all left her when she looked down and saw Arya Sand sitting on her bed.
"Now what?"
The answer should have been immediate, because she had a distinct purpose before she got distracted. Just before she was forced to admit she'd forgotten the details came back in a rush. Daenerys didn't think it was coincidence that she recovered the missing pieces when she looked away from Arya and her eyes. Apparently, it was easier to think clearly when she wasn't looking into those grey, bottomless eyes. "Now," Daenerys whispered, "we work on making more memories for me, until Missandei gets here."
Before Arya could decide what that meant, Daenerys lowered herself into Arya's lap and with one hand tangled in dark hair, she guided Arya's mouth to hers. As the kiss heated up, Daenerys's eyes rolled back in her head. Mmm yes, another moment she'd relive again and again in the coming weeks and months, especially after Arya was sent back to Dorne.
R-C
On their way from the stable to the courtyard Daenerys was walking with Missandei. Arya disappeared as soon as her horse was back in his stall. "Having a good day Princess?" Missandei asked formally.
She knew she was only asking to try and get a reaction out of her friend, but it worked. "I can't believe she did all of that," she gushed. "When she gave me my present this morning, I didn't think anything could make the day any better."
"Perhaps you shouldn't have underestimated Arya."
That was definitely true. "Why would she do all of this for me?"
Missandei tilted her head and squinted suddenly, as if trying to solve a riddle.
"What?" Daenerys pressed.
"She did it because she cares for you, as you care for her."
Hearing Missandei's assessment raised her already high spirits. "I really do," she confirmed.
"Do you know why we had to return to the keep for lunch?"
Daenerys herself had been questioning that too. Why spend all morning in King's Landing, then return to the castle for lunch before going back into the city for the afternoon? They had food outside the keep. "I have no idea, but knowing Arya, there is a reason."
Arya returning stopped her from having to speculate what the reason might be. The first thing she noticed was that Arya had removed her armor and was wearing a shirt and trousers. She still had her belt around her waist, which housed her sword, but to Daenerys the message was clear, her request for Arya to forgo her armor from time to time had been heard.
In addition to the lack of armor, when she pulled her eyes off her attractive lover, she could see Arya wasn't alone. Tyrion was at Arya's side, talking about something, making gestures with his hands as he went. Behind them was Grey Worm. He wore his armor, but carried his helmet under one arm, had no shield, no spear and only one sword on his hip. Daenerys turned to the woman beside her and could tell Missandei hadn't known he'd be coming either. The handmaiden grinned widely as he came closer. It was rare the slave couple got to spend any time together during the day. Grey Worm stayed with his troops and Missandei was with Daenerys, their paths rarely crossed. Occasionally Daenerys would send Missandei with a note for the Unsullied under one pretense or another, and they'd get a few minutes together, but those were rare enough to make what Arya had done special.
If she thought seeing Grey Worm and Tyrion would be the end of the surprises, she wasn't giving Arya enough credit. There was a long table in the courtyard covered with a clean white tablecloth. There were three vases of fresh, colorful flowers, a smaller one on each end and a larger, more elaborate bouquet in the center. It was hard to believe Arya of all people had done this and done it for her. She was in awe.
By the time Tyrion reached her, Arya was no longer with him. "Princess, happy nameday." He greeted her with a hug and then once the pleasantries were done, he stepped back and waved Aidan forward. Daenerys hadn't seen him he must have been hiding behind the taller bodies.
"Happy nameday, Princess Daenerys."
"No celebration can be called a success without the finest of fine wines, so I bring you this…"
Tyrion stopped talking and Daenerys waited. Three seconds passed, before Aidan remembered his part. "Lord Tyrion and I present you with this." He held out the bottle to Daenerys with a smile.
She smiled back and took it, thanking him repeatedly, before turning to the adult. "Thank you, Tyrion."
He dismissed her gratitude immediately. "Save it for a special occasion or open it after a really bad day."
"You didn't need to get me anything," she said, repeating something she told Arya before accepting her gift. It was even less effective on Tyrion.
"I wasn't going to, I expertly avoided your receiving line yesterday, but then I saw your guard and learned of a more private, personal celebration, well that was something I wanted to be included in."
"Thank you. Whenever I open this, I hope you'll share a glass with me."
"Name the time and place and I'll be there."
She'd always liked Tyrion, but the longer he served in the castle and the more frequently they interacted, Daenerys was confident he was becoming her friend, like Missandei or Arya.
"When you're not too busy," she said in a whisper to the Master of the Coins, "bring Aidan to my chambers. Once I have opened all the presents, I'll need to decide what to keep and what to donate. If there is anything he likes, or has need of, he can go through it first and pick his favorites."
Tyrion responded with his charming smile. "You know it's nice to know all those rumors about you are true."
She was almost afraid to ask. "What rumors?"
"Oh, there were many. Outside the capital gossiping about the Dragon Princess is a fun way to pass the time," he explained. "I heard of your beauty of course, naturally, I thought they were exaggerating, but for the first time I was happy to be wrong." Daenerys blushed and looked at the grass, Tyrion continued on. "I also heard of your generosity. It was noteworthy before you stepped in to help me distribute the Crown's gold to the people who need it. You are even more amazing than the stories describe, and for a cynic like me, that's quite the realization.
Unsure how to respond, she steered them back to Aidan. Tyrion didn't seem to mind. "I doubt he'll have use for dresses or golden trinkets, but he could pick a few and sell them and begin to buy what he wants and needs."
"We can do it next week," Tyrion suggested, "it'll give you a chance to open everything."
"Sounds great," Daenerys agreed. "You're both welcome anytime, so if you have an opening and want to stop by and have a look, that's fine by me."
As Tyrion went to his seat, Daenerys looked around the table for Arya. She wasn't there, but Grey Worm was. He and Missandei were speaking off to the side.
She scoured the table and the surrounding area again for any sign of her lover, but there wasn't one. Out of ideas, she looked to the last place she'd seen Arya. She exhaled when she found her but couldn't understand her behavior. She appeared to be waiting for something, standing just outside one of the Red Keep's many doors, looking in.
Nothing prepared her for what Arya was waiting for. The last person she expected to see Arya escorting was the man limping toward them. Aemon was there too, walking behind his father. She noticed that both father and son were dressed in fine clothes, nicer than was standard.
She watched as Arya kept pace with Rhaegar easily. They weren't talking but given how hostile Rhaegar had been since Arya joined them, that was probably for the best. She had ample evidence that Arya cared about her, it showed in everything she said and did, but inviting her brother to celebrate with them, for Daenerys's sake, was a striking example. She thought she'd be forced to mediate peace between her brother and her lover until the day Arya left for Sunspear.
Missandei and Grey Worm came over, each with a gift in hand. Missandei's was a book decorated with a ribbon. While the soldier held a plain wooden box with a lid. "You really didn't need to do all this…"
Missandei provided context, filling in some of the gaps in Daenerys's knowledge. "After Arya got permission for you to leave the keep today, she told me of her plan, and we decided to wait to give you your gifts until today, at your true nameday celebration."
"You shouldn't waste your gold on me," she continued, wanting to make sure both the handmaiden and the Unsullied knew. Missandei and Grey Worm gave her much; friendship, loyalty, and support just to name a few. She didn't need material items as well.
"We want to," Grey Worm said in the common tongue. Missandei had been tutoring him and he'd gotten much better.
"Wanted to," Missandei corrected gently.
"We wanted to," Grey Worm said again, holding out the box to her.
"Thank you, my friend." She took the box and he nodded before taking a step back. She lifted the lid and was genuinely surprised by what was inside. Placing the box on the table she reached inside. When she pulled it out, she was holding a small knife. It had a wooden handle, a straight blade and looked simple but functional.
Before she had to ask, Missandei cleared everything up. "Do you remember when we went away?"
"Of course." She would never forget that, because it was during the same time that she and Arya were growing closer.
"Arya gave me her knife." Daenerys nodded to confirm she was paying attention.
"I showed it to Grey Worm, and he gave me a few lessons on how to use it. When your nameday was approaching, he asked if you had a knife like the one Arya lent to me. I told him you didn't, so he went to the Street of Steel to find one for you."
She spoke to Grey Worm in Valyrian, wanting him to understand fully. "This is such a thoughtful gift. I will cherish it always. I will carry it with me everywhere I go. Thank you from the bottom of my heart."
She set the knife back in the box and situated the box next to the wine. She caught Grey Worm in a hug before he could back away. Once he had, Missandei stepped up to present the Princess with another unnecessary gift. "None of you should have wasted your money on me."
"We didn't waste anything, we wanted to because you're important to us."
Before they moved on to Missandei's gift, Daenerys wanted to discuss the last offering she received for a moment. "Please make sure he knows how much I appreciate what he did."
"He knows," Missandei assured her.
"Sometimes I think that all the Unsullied see when they look at me is the daughter of the man who holds their whip."
"Some see you that way," she acknowledged, "but not most and definitely not Grey Worm. He knows you are not your father, he knows you mean what you say, and he knows he can trust you."
"I hope so, I wish I could do more for them."
"You will, when the time is right you will make sure the Unsullied are given the freedom they were promised. I know it may not come until after Rhaegar is King, but you won't forget no matter how long it takes.
She embraced Missandei, unbothered by the hard book between them. When they separated, she held it out for Daenerys to take. "Happy nameday, may each page spark a journey in your mind."
When she got past the ribbon, she wasn't immediately sure what she was looking at. The front cover was unmarked leather. She flipped to the first page and saw a lot of words, but no clear explanation. She went to the middle of the book, and finally started to understand. On the page she chose at random was a map. She read the heading on the first "Pentos." On the following page was notes dedicated to Pentos, she could see it was a traveller's guide. She flipped to one of the last pages and found a map of the area around Missandei's former home in Naath.
When Daenerys looked up from her new book Missandei was waiting. "With that, you can plan your trips, decide where you'll leave from, where you'll go, you can even choose which ports you'll make landfall in for a night to restock supplies. That's one of the biggest books of its kind, including maps from all over the Seven Kingdoms, Essos and beyond."
"This is remarkable," she said, underselling it a bit. "Thank you so much."
They embraced and while she had Daenerys close, Missandei whispered in her ear. "Arya was right, you deserve to celebrate your nameday the way you want."
"Thank you, no matter how many times I say it, it'll never be enough, I could never thank you for everything you do for me. You're my best friend."
"And you are mine," Missandei replied, "always."
They were still hugging when the last two guests arrived. Aemon was smiling wide with his arms full, likely carrying his gift, and one from his father.
"I'll go see if Arya needs help," Missandei said before she escaped.
"Thank you for coming," Daenerys said kindly.
Aemon was content with a smile and a nod in greeting, but Rhaegar wanted a hug. "Happy nameday Dany, you look beautiful."
"My nameday was yesterday," she reminded him.
She meant it as a joke, a lighthearted comment, but her brother took it very seriously. "If someone asked me two days ago, I would have agreed with you, now I'm not so sure."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I think your friend was right. She said you deserved the chance to celebrate, after you did everything Father and I asked of you yesterday."
Aware that mentioning Arya could be volatile, she treaded carefully. "I know you agreed to let me leave the castle today, so thank you. None of this would have happened without you."
"You're welcome," he said.
In front of her eyes, he was tiring, so she urged him to sit. When he asked which chair was meant for him, she had no idea, so she told him to sit anywhere.
As the Crown Prince got settled, Daenerys was left with Aemon. He handed her the smaller package first. "From me," he told her as she went to work opening it. As she looked down at the incredible equipment, she wondered what she'd done to deserve such generous, kind-hearted people in her life. She knew what Aemon had bought her, and she knew why. She gently lifted it from the box. "That'll give you advanced warning if raiders are lurking."
"Maybe you should keep it," she said as she turned it over in her hands.
"Me? Why?"
"I'm sure it'll spot a Wildling just as easily. I may never get to make use of it, but you, I think your father really intends to let you go to the Wall soon."
She could tell her opinion brought him joy. She was happy for him. Aemon was quick to regain control of his features and adjust his expression. She knew why he was doing it, but it was needless. Just because she likely would never get the ship she now had drawings of, just because she'd never steer a ship while using one of the pages from her book of maps as a guide, just because she'd never stand at the helm and use Aemon's spyglass to spot a pirate didn't mean she couldn't be happy that his dreams were coming true.
"This is from my father," Aemon said as he set the final gift in front of her. It was similar in size and weight to Missandei's and with good reason. It was a book, this one gave all the necessary information in the title, saving Daenerys from having to flip through to learn what it was about. The cover said it all; 'Histories of the Seven Kingdoms – Including all houses big and small, prosperous to long forgotten."
Just from those few words Daenerys was thinking about all she'd learn inside. There would be a section on the Tyrells. She promised Lady Olenna she'd visit and before they departed for Highgarden, she'd read the entire portion of the book devoted to the Tyrells, more than once if necessary, so she knew as much as possible about the family, the people, the lands and the region. She had only a basic understanding about Dorne before arriving in Sunspear and every day she spent there sprouted new questions about the people, their customs, their beliefs, she wanted to know everything. She always planned to return to Dorne one day, if not when Arya went back, then some time later. Perhaps the book could provide suggestions of other places and things she needed to see while she was there.
R-C
Author's Note: I wanted to get Arya's reveal into this chapter but there was too much that had to happen first.
The next chapter will have the last part of the nameday celebration and then Arya finally telling Daenerys who she is. If you've stuck around this long, I hope you'll hang on a little bit longer.
RC