She should have been at breakfast. There would be questions about her absence, but she just couldn't do it. To sit there, surrounded by people who infuriated her. How could she share a table with her father and brother, how could she make nice with the King's advisors now that she knew the role they played in Arya's misfortune?
She had a moment to herself. Missandei was taking her clothes to be cleaned and Arya was gone to see if Tyrion had meetings that required her attention. While she waited, Daenerys was struggling to find space in her body for all the emotions she was feeling. It was difficult to look at Arya and see the smart, beautiful, talented woman she was, because Daenerys was tormented by the scared, lonely girl she must have been. How could these people call themselves men, call themselves leaders when they did nothing to protect innocent children? It was despicable. Some things were just inexcusable. If Aerys really felt the Starks needed to be punished, he could've punished Arya's father alone. There was no need to involve the man's wife and children in their personal dispute. When Arya told her story, Daenerys asked why her father would wait so long to exact revenge. At the time she wasn't thinking clearly, if she had been, she would have seen his motive straight away. He'd told Ned Stark directly, he wanted him to suffer. Killing him would have been easy and justifiable to many, but her father preferred it when his vengeance took a while. For years he let Ned Stark believe he'd been granted mercy and then when the King was able to inflict maximum damage, he acted on his murderous desires. It was sickening.
She had no doubt the beating Arya's father received from the Clegane was severe and unpleasant, but she'd wager he'd take it again and again over what came next. When he was bloodied and weak, unable to resist, he was forced to watch as his family was slaughtered. Aerys could have killed him within days of the Battle at the Trident, but instead he chose to wait patiently. She shivered as she imagined his glee each time word reached him that the Starks had added another child to their growing family. How many were enough? Five apparently. He could have hurt Ned Stark by summoned them when he had one child, two, three, or four, but her father waited until there were five, one of them still a babe. It wasn't justice and it wasn't right, it was murder and torture.
She wasn't only obsessing over her father's vile deeds, she was holding many others accountable too. The lies were too numerous to list. Stacked one atop the next, they'd be too tall to see over. All her life she'd been fed lies about the Starks, and she believed them. She blamed them for Rhaegar's injury, she hated them and was glad when they were no longer Wardens in the North. Daenerys had been pleased by their downfall, but she was just a stupid girl. She didn't know anything. The truth was heavy, and it changed everything. How many people knew what really happened? How many lies were told to keep it hidden? How many lives lost? Doing nothing when Arya and the other Starks were judged was reprehensible, but then to demean the family name afterward, to spread lies and tear down a legacy it took generations to build, that was especially spiteful. She always believed the Starks fled in disgrace, a fitting end for the traitors she believed then they were. She tried to think back, to recall which of the men around her were part of the conspiracy, her father of course, Tywin and Varys definitely. The next face that popped into her mind brought anger with it, Jorah Mormont. He had the nerve to disparage the Starks after betraying them. She recalled asking him about the war once. He said, 'Your father did the right thing, a rebellion against the Crown cannot be allowed to take root, grow and thrive.' 'They got what they deserved,' he said of the rebels another time. Dumbly she agreed with him then, oblivious about the true horrors that had taken place. Not even Rhaegar was safe from her scorn. It may have been true that her brother didn't discuss the Starks, just as he never spoke of Aemon's mother, but that didn't make him innocent. He knew others were spreading lies on his behalf and for his benefit and he allowed it. In Daenerys's mind that made him just as guilty. Everything she thought she knew about the Starks and Robert's Rebellion was slanted half-truths, gross misrepresentation or entirely inaccurate. The people in her life, her own family, no one valued her enough to tell her the truth.
She was stewing in her rage, reliving distant memories, as she tried to make a list of all those who wronged her, it was going to be a long one. She hadn't sought it out, wasn't looking for it, but her eyes landed on it, there on the shelf. Instantly she was on her feet. She hurried over to it and tore it from its place with enough force that she unsettled two other unrelated books as well. "Histories of the Seven Kingdoms," she read aloud. It was the book Rhaegar gave her for her nameday. Surely when he bought it for her, he didn't expect she'd be using it for this purpose. The text claimed it carried information about all houses, big and small, so it stood to reason that there would be a segment on the Starks.
She flipped through the pages eagerly, before she realized aimless searching was futile. She went back to the beginning and tried to discover how the information was organized. She was anxious and the time she spent learning to navigate the large book felt longer than it was, but it was well worth it. When she finished, she knew exactly where to go for information about Arya's kin.
The Starks, she read, feeling a nervous excitement. What would the book tell her? Would it validate Arya's recollections, or spew more Targaryen nonsense?
Seated in Winterfell in the North of Westeros the Starks were a storied family that went back to a time before Aegon and his dragons. Before the land was united, a Stark ruled from Winterfell as King in the North. They were known by their grey banners with a direwolf, and the words "Winter is Coming." After bending the knee, the Starks served the Targaryen Kings, fulfilling their duties as Wardens of the North faithfully for many peaceful and prosperous centuries.
Daenerys skimmed over pages about the first Stark King to bend the knee to one of her ancestors, and past a Stark's important role in building the Wall. She kept flipping and flipping, past a dozen detailed sections dedicated to various Starks of note. Daenerys would read the ancient history later, for now she was much more interested in recent events.
She lost count of the number of pages she turned before she landed on Rickard Stark. Daenerys put her finger on the spot to ensure she didn't lose her place and then she steeled herself for what was to come. She needed to do this. She had to know.
Warden in the North after his father, Rickard had and raised the children that would severe the allegiance between the Targaryens and the Starks forever.
Daenerys read through a list of names and was surprised to see one Arya hadn't mentioned. Had she told Daenerys of Benjen? If so, she couldn't recall what was said. She kept reading.
One would like to think that if Rickard Stark knew what harm his children would do to the Realm, he would have smothered them in their sleep as infants.
Daenerys slammed the book closed with force. By the Gods, please tell her she didn't read what she thought she did. Tentatively, carefully she found the right page and checked again. The words were unchanged. "Fuck!" she spat, as she closed the book again. It was useless, it just reinforced the lies. Reading it wouldn't provide any clarity that was for certain. If the author was going to mention Rickard's unfortunate death while seeking information about his missing daughter, he surely wouldn't have needed that particular passage.
Desperate to look anywhere other than the book that offended her, her eyes landed on the crackling fire. She watched the licking, leaping flames for a few moments and felt the weight of the book in her lap. It was a gift, but not much of one. Her brother had given her a book filled with someone else's lies, as if she hadn't heard enough already. She stood, intending to drop it in the fire and be done with it. She was close enough feel the warmth when it occurred to her that she should probably finish what she'd started. If she was committed to burning it, this would be her one and only chance to see what the author said about Arya and her family.
Daenerys didn't have high expectations for the section on Ned Stark and his children, not after what was written about the man's father, but she looked, nonetheless. She skipped over the parts about his young life and physical appearance finding instead what she really wanted.
Eddard Stark was named Lord of Winterfell after the executions of his father and brother in King's Landing for crimes against the Crown. Not even being uplifted to Warden in the North was enough to lessen his rage. He held a deep and widely known hate for all Targaryens after the executions and rallied the North in opposition. He joined forces with Robert Baratheon of Storm's End and together they attempted to remove the Targaryens from power.
Daenerys was stunned. Somehow the author managed to implicate Arya's father and Robert Baratheon without mentioning Lyanna, the whole reason they were fighting. Bypassing the portion dedicated to the war, she landed on a page which spoke about the children of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully.
Robb – Firstborn, named after the traitor Robert Baratheon, who was slayed in the Battle of the Trident. Robb was raised to be heir of Winterfell until King Aerys the Second stripped the Starks of their authority replaced them with House Bolton. What little is known about Robb says he was loyal to his father and likely would have taken up arms against the throne if given the chance.
Brandon – Named after the traitor executed by King Aerys the Second for crimes against the throne. Young when his family fell from grace, it was said Bran was gentle, kind and like Robb before him looked adored his father.
Rickon – In keeping with the tradition of naming his sons after traitors the third-born boy was named Rickon after Eddard's father. Most of the Starks are a mystery, but Rickon even more so. He was but a babe when Eddard and his family.
Daenerys stopped reading and wondered again why she bothered. She should have tossed it in the fireplace and not let her curiosity get the better of her. She knew the author wasn't going to treat the Starks fairly, but still it hurt to read the exact ways he tried to dishonor them. The author claimed the Starks simply ran away never to be seen again. The book makes no mention of Aerys summoning them, or about the murders carried out when they arrived. It was sad and predictable that the book would align with the King's preferences. She knew the truth now, but she was in the minority. How many who read this book believed it? They were misjudging Arya, misjudging the whole of her family, and it was wrong.
Sansa – the first of two daughters born to her parents. Sansa was more Tully than Stark, with her mother's eyes and temperament. Though young when the Starks left Westeros, Sansa was rumored to have many interested suitors, both in the North and beyond.
Reading about Sansa, and knowing she was the only survivor apart from Arya, Daenerys was more motivated than ever to travel to Highgarden and reunite the sisters. She'd decide for herself who Sansa Stark was.
Arya - Unlike her sister, Arya took after her father, not only in appearance but in deed. Spirited, unruly and wild, she was every inch a she-wolf. It's been said her mother couldn't control her, that she did as she pleased, answering only to her father. As it had been in previous generations Stark daughters were particularly vulnerable to this uncontrollable behavior. Like Lyanna before her, Arya couldn't be tamed. Unlike Lyanna, who had the good sense to leave Winterfell, Arya remained there causing problems until she and the rest of her family moved on.
As is the case with any of the Starks, we can't say what became of Arya, but one can only imagine a negative fate for one so destined for destruction. Those of us who still reside in the Realm should consider ourselves lucky that Arya and her kin have had the good sense to leave us in peace. They belong in a place far less civilized than ours.
Daenerys didn't have words. What was several steps beyond furious? She couldn't believe it. They made Arya and her family sound like savages! She couldn't help wondering if the author wrote each word in the King's presence. Did her father dictate the lies or just review them afterward, granting his approval? How pathetic that the only mention of Lyanna was not as a missing woman whose disappearance sparked the rebellion, not as Aemon's mother, but as an unruly woman who couldn't be controlled. It was distasteful to say the least.
She was holding the book over the fire when Missandei came in. "What are you doing?" she asked as she rushed to the Princess's side. A soft, but firm hand snared her wrist and tried to guide it away from the flames.
"They're lies!" she explained, unaware she was yelling until she heard herself. "All of it. It's all shit."
Missandei took the book from between Daenerys's fingers and read the cover. "This is…" she paused. "The Prince gave you this, for your nameday."
"Some gift," she spat bitterly. "It's filled with lies and he knows it."
"You were going to burn it?"
"It isn't worth the ink wasted to write it, but it could still be of use warming my chambers," she justified.
"Come, let's sit." Daenerys didn't budge, she continued staring into the fire, even though she was no longer holding the item she wanted to burn. "Tell me which are lies," Missandei instructed.
"All of them probably."
"Is this about Arya, about her family?" she guessed accurately.
"They wrote vile things about her. It keeps getting worse."
"What does?"
"What my family did to hers!" Daenerys erupted.
"Come sit," Missandei encouraged, making room next to her. When Daenerys remained unmoving, the handmaiden resorted to a bribe. "Show me the lies and when we're done, I'll help you burn it."
She and Missandei had only spoken briefly about what Arya told her. There hadn't been time since. She deserved to know. If she was going to understand, she needed to hear everything. Maybe the wise woman from Naath would know how Daenerys was supposed to contend with the sick feeling that had been plaguing her since Arya told her tale. She was a Targaryen, that made her responsible and although she wanted to make amends, she wanted to fix things, she didn't even know where to begin. How could you right something so wrong? Was it even possible? Should she try even if it was unlikely she'd be successful? She trusted Missandei would know how to help her live with this new information, but first she needed to tell her what she knew. "What happened to Arya's family was terrible," she said as she approached her friend, "and it's all my father's fault."
R-C
It wasn't one thing, it was everything. Things piled on Arya one after the other until doing nothing was impossible.
It started when she got back from seeing Tyrion. Daenerys was in a foul mood. She hadn't been, but when she returned, everything was different. What caused the change was a mystery. Was she angry the dwarf had nothing for them?
Arya was still trying to solve the riddle when Daenerys announced her reasons. "I'm tired and I still have a lot of notes to write, so I think that's what I'll do today."
Just like that, Arya didn't have to wonder anymore. She felt guilty for being at least part of the reason Daenerys was up late, but it was impossible to regret their night together. Tired was a small price to pay. She actually agreed with the Princess, this was the perfect day to hide away.
Both Arya and Missandei offered to help, but Daenerys refused, apparently protocol dictated that each note be in the Princess's own hand. With little else to contribute, Missandei brought snacks, Arya stole kisses and they combined to keep Daenerys entertained while she wrote the same words over and over. Originally, she thought they were having success, Daenerys put a considerable dent in the number of notes she had pending, and all was well. Frequently, usually right before she readied the seal to finish another letter, violet eyes would leave the desktop and seek her out. No words were exchanged, but then again, they weren't needed, Arya understood perfectly. From the spark in her eye she guessed Daenerys was thinking about the night before. If the mischievous smile was any indication, she was also planning for later, and the possibility of a repeat performance. Arya certainly wouldn't complain if that's what her future held.
Anywhere else in the castle and Arya would need to be cautious. She'd have to hide behind a mask, so their feelings weren't obvious to anyone who saw them together. She didn't like it, but it couldn't be helped. It was unavoidable. She wasn't a suitable partner for Daenerys and therefore no one could ever know the extent of their relationship. Whether at dinner tomorrow and walking the hall a week from now, she'd need to be the stoic guard everyone expected her to be. Out there she had a role to play and lies to tell, but in here with these people, she could be honest. It was safe to be herself.
For almost three hours they fell into an easy pattern. Daenerys would write, the others would talk, and when she was becoming frustrated, Arya would distract her with a kiss or two. It was all rather productive.
She couldn't say when it changed, not exactly. She just noticed that Daenerys was glancing in her direction less. Arya didn't think much of it, not at first. As time passed Daenerys contributed less and less to the conversation, until she was practically silent. The handmaiden and the guard shared a loaded look as they tried to understand what was happening. The answer came when Arya saw how Daenerys was spending the valuable seconds between the end of one note and the start of the next. Instead of joking with Missandei or flirting with Arya, Daenerys eyed the master list, the one that tracked the total number of notes that remained unwritten. That would be enough to dampen even the brightest day.
Since her nameday Daenerys had told her more than once how important the notes were. To Arya they were meaningless scrolls, ink and wax, but Daenerys described them as 'vital tools' used to strengthen the relationships between the Crown and the many people who flocked to King's Landing to celebrate the Princess's birth. She wanted to object, to say that if the notes were so important to the King then he should write them, but she knew voicing that particular feeling would only add to Daenerys's stress. Complaining might make Arya feel better, but it wouldn't ease Daenerys's burden.
They lasted another hour and a half before Arya reached her limit. She'd been willing to endure the torture and offer support in whatever small way she could, but that was before, before her lover's shoulders slumped in defeat and her smile disappeared. She couldn't do nothing while Daenerys suffered.
"Missandei," she said pushing off the wall and approaching the desk, "can you find Daenerys's cloak please?"
She was sure the handmaiden had questions, but she kept them to herself and went to the closet. Arya arrived next to Daenerys's chair just in time to see her add one more note to the 'completed' group. When her hand reached for the next blank page Arya grabbed her wrist and held it in place. "Wh…what are you doing Arya?"
"No more letters today," she decreed. "You've done enough. Let's go have some fun."
It was there, a momentary flicker of joy before the Princess's conscience won out. "I can't. I have to finish."
Arya couldn't disagree with that. Daenerys would eventually need to write to even the most insignificant Lord who decided to visit, but it didn't have to be today. She tried unsuccessfully to free her hand from Arya's grip. "Just a few minutes. You can do a bunch more tomorrow but…"
Again, Arya watched as Daenerys struggled between what she clearly wanted and her obligations. It took longer than the last time, but her duty still came out on top. "I can't, and we can't. We can't leave the keep today, unless you spoke to my brother and didn't tell me."
She was making this so much harder than it needed to be. Luckily, Arya quite liked a challenge, especially in the form of the beautiful Dragon Princess. "All the more reason to get up and come outside, I think it's past time you learned you can have fun inside these walls."
For the first time in far too long Arya saw her lover and not the formal, proper Princess she became when fulfilling her official duties as Aerys's daughter. She stopped trying to claim her arm back and leaned toward Arya instead. There was an unspoken question on her lips and the guard knew she was intrigued. "Trust me." Afraid Daenerys's manners would undo their progress she struck a pre-emptive bargain. "Ten minutes, if you aren't having fun, I'll personally escort you back up here to your chambers and your letters."
"A little fresh air would be nice for all of us, I think," Missandei added helpfully. The reaction from Daenerys was instantaneous. Missandei was brilliant. By claiming it would benefit all of them, Daenerys was less likely to refuse. Even if she didn't want to go outside, she was too good to deny her friends the chance to take a break.
"Ten minutes," Daenerys announced firmly, earning nods from her companions.
She stood from her chair and arched her weary back, groaning as she did. Arya released her and stepped back, giving her space while Missandei held out the cloak she located.
As the trio left the room, Arya fell in step beside Missandei. She wasn't ashamed to admit it was her and not Arya that got Daenerys to agree. She was so grateful she might have rewarded the handmaiden with a kiss, if doing so wouldn't enrage Daenerys and earn her a sword in the gut from Grey Worm. Since physical acts of gratitude were not an option, she chose to use her words. "Thank you," she whispered.
"She needs this," Missandei noted, echoing Arya's opinion.
R-C
It would have been a lie to say the cool breeze didn't feel nice after being cooped up indoors. As tempted as she was to attach herself to Arya and give in to the desire to have a little fun, the long list of notes she still had to write haunted her. She'd gotten a lot done and was actually enjoying the time with her friends, regardless of the task, until she made the mistake of glancing at the list as a whole instead of just the next name. Seeing how much work remained was daunting and demoralizing, ruining her mood. The last place she wanted to be was back upstairs writing more notes, but she knew that is where she belonged, it was what was expected of her, no matter how badly she wanted to be anywhere else.
She agreed to ten minutes because she couldn't bring herself to disappoint her lover. The smile Arya aimed at her after she agreed was breathtaking.
"I need a favor," Arya said from Daenerys's left. When had she gotten there? Last she looked Missandei and Arya were whispering together a few paces back.
The intensity in Arya's expression spoke to her, informing her that whatever the guard was about to ask for, it was important. The nonsense with the notes notwithstanding Daenerys found herself giving Arya her undivided attention. If it was in her power to give, she would. "Okay?"
Before she elaborated Arya peeked over her shoulder, locating the woman from Naath who was trailing behind, giving them privacy. "I need you to think up an excuse so Missandei can have the day off tomorrow."
That was the favor Arya wanted? Was that what she and Missandei had been discussing on the walk through the castle? Like Arya had, Daenerys looked back at her friend. If Missandei wanted another day for herself, why hadn't she come to Daenerys directly? Irrational as it was, her best friend's choice to use Arya as a messenger hurt and Daenerys responded more harshly than was fair. "Fine, I'll come up with something. All she had to do was ask."
As was fast becoming habit, Arya understood her. She stopped walking and used a hand on Daenerys's forearm to still her too. "No," Arya whispered, "Missandei didn't ask me for anything."
"What?" That made even less sense than when she thought Missandei was afraid to ask herself.
"Grey Worm," Arya said, lowering her voice even further and checking to ensure they wouldn't be overheard.
"What?" she said again, still not making the connection.
Arya's whisper was so quiet Daenerys had to strain her ears to hear it while standing right next to her. "He wants to do something nice for her. Seems she had a nice time while they were away, and he wants to do it again."
Relief surged through her as she finally understood what all of this was about. Daenerys smiled, partially because the mystery had been solved, but mainly because she was impressed. Grey Worm loved Missandei unconditionally, but he wasn't the most romantic man to ever walk. It was as surprising as it was touching to learn he was searching for ways to show his love to Missandei. "She loved it," Daenerys confirmed, recalling what her friend told her about their two days away from the castle. "I don't think she wanted to come back."
"He asked for my help, so can you go without her tomorrow?"
"Of course," Daenerys promised. "If anyone asks, I'll say I sent her on another errand. No one will miss her."
"That's great, Grey Worm was very excited about it," Arya confessed with a chuckle. "I had to help him scout out the best locations."
Although she thought it was sweet that Grey Worm and Arya were working together to surprise Missandei, Daenerys quickly pushed that thought aside. She imagined Arya hunched over a map, studying it for the most romantic spots, only this time it wasn't for Grey Worm and Missandei's benefit. "Did you find any? We could always go for a ride together the next time Rhaegar let's me leave."
She had no idea when that would be, or what manner of destinations Arya helped the Unsullied find, but she didn't care. Daenerys was suddenly excited by the prospect of getting to experience what Missandei and Grey Worm had. The hope that she'd be doing it with Arya made it all the more appealing.
"One or two," she responded cryptically. Her smile warned that her thinking was in line with Daenerys's. "I couldn't let Grey Worm outdo me, could I?" she asked rhetorically.
More than once Daenerys had been fought over. As recently as a few months before they left for Dorne, a pair of suitors from different kingdoms arrived at the Red Keep on the same day to seek her hand in marriage. Undeterred by her lack of interest, each man made it his mission to prove his worth by demeaning the other. The weeklong spectacle had infuriated her. What the men failed to understand was that she wasn't a prize to be won. They got the message when she called them together and sent them away, having had her fill of their games.
She may have hated when those men fought over her like a piece of meat, but it was a whole other set of emotions she was overrun with when Arya spoke. She felt loved, cherished and valued, knowing that Arya cared enough to put time and energy into planning things for them. She would be happy with Arya regardless of where they were and what they were doing, but she couldn't deny it felt good to be worthy of the Northern woman's efforts. "It's a date," she said, already looking forward to it.
R-C
Daenerys's mood improved with every step they took toward their destination. While she wanted to be the sole reason for the shift, Arya wasn't delusional enough to take all the credit. After being trapped inside for so long she imagined the fresh air and warm sun were doing much more for Daenerys than Arya's presence. They were walking a worn path that led to the yard where the Unsullied trained. Arya couldn't tell if they were going for Missandei's benefit or if Daenerys intended to speak to Grey Worm about his plans.
"I need a favor from you too," Daenerys said when they were just steps from the Unsullied.
"What's wrong?"
Daenerys replied with a real smile. "Nothing, I just need you to run back to my chambers and grab a few things."
"Really? Can't it wait?" Whether Daenerys was going to adhere to the ten-minute limit or stay longer, Arya couldn't imagine what was urgent enough to send her back early.
"Please Arya, I'll distract Missandei, but you're the only one who can do this."
She didn't understand why Missandei needed distracting or why now was the best time for whatever this was, but Daenerys was asking, so she'd go. "Just tell me what you need."
The Princess was immensely relieved, so much so it made Arya question if she really thought the guard would refuse. "In the pile of notes I've finished, about twenty or so from the top you'll find one addressed to the Musgoods thanking them for visiting. Can you bring it to me?" Before Arya could ask why, Daenerys was moving on to the next item she needed. "In one of the desk drawers you'll find purses of gold. Pick one of the biggest ones and bring as well."
She couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something important. She'd do as Daenerys requested, but first she needed to verify one detail. "You'll be here when I get back?"
"Right over there," she swore, pointing to a specific spot. With a gleam in her eye she leaned closer to the Northern woman. "If I ran away, I wouldn't get anymore kisses from you."
Fighting a smirk, she raised an eyebrow. "And that's worth staying for?"
"Definitely. Hurry back and I'll prove it."
All the way to the castle she told herself it was her duty as a guard and not the potential of more kisses that propelled her to run and not walk, but deep inside Arya knew better.
R-C
Armed with the note for Lady Musgood and a large purse of gold dragons Daenerys summoned Missandei and her lover from where they'd been talking together.
"Is everything alright?" Missandei fretted.
"It is," Daenerys insisted, "but I require aid from the two of you."
Her loyal friend was immediately willing. "Of course, anything you need."
"I wrote this important letter to Lady Musgood of Storm's End, but I fear sending a standard courier will take too long."
"Too long?"
She nodded to emphasize her point. "I know it's an inconvenience, but I was hoping you might be willing to hand deliver my correspondence." She let that sink in before she added, "The contents are personal and there is no one else I could trust."
"Are you sure?"
She was sure. She turned her gaze to the soldier. "Can I trust you to ensure Missandei reaches the Stormlands safely?"
"I swear it, Princess," Grey Worm pledged, bringing a hand up to his chest to show the seriousness of his vow.
"You'll need this," Daenerys said, holding the sealed letter out to Missandei. She appraised it for a long moment before taking it. "This too," she finished, passing her the gold too, "for any expenses you incur."
Missandei was suspicious. "Can you give us a moment alone?" she asked Grey Worm in Valyrian. He complied without delay and Missandei's features hardened a bit. "What are you doing?" she asked Daenerys without switching back to the common tongue.
"Asking a lot of you," she responded, not breaking character. "Please Missandei, do this for me."
Her words erased the disapproval she saw in Missandei. "It's not that, I just…" she stopped to collect herself. "I just returned from a trip. I do not need another. I'm happy here."
"This wasn't my idea."
The admission nearly caused the composed handmaiden to drop what she was carrying. "It wasn't?"
She shook her head and looked to where Grey Worm and Arya were. "He wanted to do something nice for you, he even enlisted Arya to help."
Tears shined in her eyes once she understood. "He did?"
"Yes, so if you don't want to do this for me, do it for him." It was a dirty trick playing on Missandei's honor and loyalty, but it was all for a good cause.
"I don't need it," Missandei insisted without any real frustration. "He shows me he cares all the time. I don't need this."
Daenerys put a hand on her friend's arm. "Go and enjoy yourself. Walk slow, stop in every town, see every sight, consider it practice for when you have your freedom and can go anywhere you wish."
"Thank you, for all you've done for me," Missandei whispered, "for us."
"That's my line," she retorted playfully. "You best get on your way, Grey Worm's waiting. I'll see you in a few days."
True to her character, Missandei spent more time worrying over Daenerys than anything else. "Are you sure it's okay? I'll be gone a lot longer than I was last time."
Daenerys smiled. "Yes, you will, and I hope you enjoy every second."
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine," she assured her. As she spoke her eyes drifted to Arya. She'd miss Missandei but she'd have Arya to fill the void.
Missandei caught on and chuckled. "There are other ways to get time alone with Arya. You don't need to send me to another kingdom."
Daenerys felt her face heat but was otherwise unrepentant. "I was just thinking that since you're going to be spending the coming days with your lover, I should probably do the same."
"I was hoping you'd say that. I'll worry about you less if I know Arya is with you."
Despite being said with an undercurrent of humor, Daenerys knew there was some truth in the statement also. She chose to let it pass. "Come on," she encouraged, sliding her hand down Missandei's arm to her hand. "Let's go before they decide to start sparring, it would delay your leaving by hours."
They laughed together as they made their way over to their partners. Having finished her heartfelt talk with Missandei, Daenerys left her to prepare and went to Grey Worm. "Ready to go?" she asked him.
He nodded. "Yes, thank you. I know you do this for me."
"I'm doing this for both of you," she corrected. "It was a good idea, Missandei is very lucky."
His stoic expression cracked a bit. "I want her happy," he declared. She'd always known they were a good pair, but Daenerys could think of nothing better for Missandei than a man who knew what she deserved. Grey Worm clearly did.
"You make her happy," Daenerys remarked. "She'll want to rush, but it's your job to go slow."
"Slow?"
"Slow," she repeated. "I want you and Missandei to take your time, do you understand?"
He took a moment to contemplate the words he heard. "More time," he said in Valyrian, confirming he got the message.
"That's right," she said. "There is no hurry, just make her happy and keep her safe." She knew she didn't need to tell him either of those things, he'd do them regardless, but it never hurt to repeat the important parts.
"I will." Aware of how seriously the Unsullied took their words, she knew she didn't need to worry. Grey Worm would guard Missandei against anything that might threatened her.
R-C
"Still have your knife?" Arya asked as Missandei tucked away the letter she'd been tasked with carrying.
When her hand was empty and the letter secure, she retrieved the weapon Arya gave her. "I carry it always." She returned the blade to its hiding place and then said, "Thank you, I understand you helped arrange this."
"I don't deserve any of the credit," she explained honestly, "this was entirely Grey Worm's idea. He loves you and wanted to show you."
"He shows it all the time. I don't need…"
"Let him do this for you," Arya suggested, "it means a lot to him."
Satisfied, Missandei shifted their conversation to Daenerys. "She told me to go, but can I really leave her for so long?" Arya didn't get a chance to answer before Missandei was going again. "I know I'm replaceable but it's a long trip and…"
Two hands gripped her shoulders and steered her away from the approaching panic. "The castle may have other servants but there is only one of you. You're as irreplaceable as they come."
"Will she be okay?" she asked, sounding vulnerable.
"I'll take care of her," Arya swore. "I won't do as good a job as you, but we'll be fine."
"I'm glad she has you."
"Don't worry about us," Arya instructed as her hands dropped to her sides. "Enjoy the ride, enjoy the company, enjoy yourself. Daenerys, Grey Worm, me, that's all we want for you."
R-C
They saw the lovers turned couriers to the stables and said goodbye before heading back in the direction of the castle. Arya chose then to end the peaceful quiet. "I know it's been longer than ten minutes, but can you spare a few more?"
She really should get back to her notes, but she was curious to see what Arya had dragged her outside for. "A few more minutes wouldn't hurt."
They ended up where they started, in front of the barracks where Arya lived, surrounded by training Unsullied. She assumed they'd come to see Grey Worm last time, but he was on his way to the Stormlands with Missandei so why were they back?
She followed Arya through the tightly packed clusters of armored men. They stopped in front of a large table lined with weapons, some Daenerys recognized, others she couldn't even begin to guess at their purpose. Why had Arya brought her here? "What are we doing?"
She responded by picking up a bow. Her next stop was to retrieve a quiver of arrows from the ground nearby. Arya slung the projectiles over her shoulder but handed the well-crafted bow to the Princess. "Hold this," she directed.
Daenerys did, taking it dumbly. She'd been around guards and soldiers her whole life and this was the first time she'd ever touched a bow. "What going on Arya?"
"Just a second," she said, flashing Daenerys a smile that made her forget to breathe. She was powerless to resist it. Even if she wanted to ask one of the numerous, reasonable questions she had, her mouth was too dry to form words.
Arya led her away from the Unsullied to a less populated area. A row of hay targets had been set up. A handful of Unsullied were practicing their technique on the stationary figures using swords and spears. Two more were standing further back, using bows to perfect long-range strikes. Was this why they'd come, so Arya could shoot arrows?
When they were standing directly in front of an unused target Arya stopped and shrugged the quiver down her arm, letting it drop to the dirt. "Arya what…"
She was behind the Princess in a blink, gripping her under the arms and moving her. "Have you shot a bow before?
"N…no…" she stammered. It wasn't the admission that had her tripping over her words, it was Arya's touch. It was easier to think when her hands dropped, so why was Daenerys disappointed? This was for her? Was Arya mad? She didn't know the first thing about weapons.
"When I was a girl and I was overwhelmed," she remembered, "I'd sneak away, grab a bow and some arrows and try and stick them in a target just like this one. It never failed to make me forget my troubles."
She'd been wrong to assume Arya lost her mind. She was being her usual thoughtful self. Still, Daenerys had her doubts. "It's sweet of you to think this might help, but I have no idea what I'm doing."
"I'll teach you," she proposed. Arya raised her hands again, to adjust her pose and Daenerys was struck by memories of the night before, when those same hands touched her far more intimately. If all of the foster's lessons involved physical contact, then maybe Daenerys could grow to appreciate them.
"Okay, what's first?"
Visible pleased with Daenerys's willingness to try she returned to her place behind the Princess. "With a bow, it's all about you're your breathing, your stance and trust," she explained.
Daenerys was skeptical. "Trust what?"
"Breathing first," Arya reminded her while resisting the urge to smile. "Slow, even breathes. Then, your stance, plant your feet under you, keep your back straight."
She did as she was told, and her instructor bathed her with praise. "Good, just like that. Your breathing and stance are good."
"Who am I trusting again?" she quipped.
Although she scowled Daenerys could tell her lover was amused. "Trust the bow will do the hard part and trust your eye to guide the arrow to the target. Can you do that?"
She looked over her shoulder at her lover. "I don't know. Let's find out."
Daenerys thought she was ready, but she didn't realize that turning to look at Arya, undid most of the adjustments she made. When was facing the target again Arya informed her, "Okay, straighten up a bit, like you were before." Daenerys felt warm inside as Arya complimented her again. "Now open your feet a bit, it'll make it easier to keep your balance."
She made the adjustment as Arya requested, but evidently it was not enough. Instead of a compliment she felt Arya's hands on her hips, holding her in place. Her mind was far from pure as she felt Arya's boot against the inside of one foot and then the other, widening her stance by spreading her legs. "I think I prefer the hands on method," she joked. What possessed her to say that? What was she thinking? She wasn't very good at flirting, she probably just embarrassed herself and ruined the moment.
Arya's reply came with her mouth right over Daenerys's ear. "Whatever it takes," she breathed, "I'll do it."
Her worries were needless, and it emboldened her to try again. "Anything?" Her mind was already filling with possibilities. Was this what a relationship was supposed to feel like? Alternating between exhilarating and terrifying? Obsessing over her misstep one moment and then eagerly anticipating what awaited them next?
"Mmhmm," Arya hummed. Daenerys didn't know if she was being intentionally seductive or if it was just second nature, but either way it was working. "Hit the target and I'll happily give you anything you want."
She had been content to stand there and continue flirting without ever actually firing an arrow, but now she had proper incentive. "Continue with the lesson," she all but demanded.
Arya chuckled. Daenerys smiled, loving that sound. Calloused hands took her upper arms and manipulated them. When she finished the hand holding the bow was out in front, while her right was slightly behind. "Line the bow up with the target," Arya advised, "remember to keep your feet firm and your back straight."
She briefly considered ruining her form, just so Arya could modify it again, but she restrained herself, wanting to prove she was a good pupil. "Like this?"
"Perfect." Even though Arya was just being polite, she felt proud of herself. "Now I want you to practice, pulling the string back." Pull the string? She didn't even have an arrow yet. She was going to mention it but decided to go along without complaint for the time being, maybe Arya would praise her discipline next.
The bow string was a lot harder to move than Daenerys expected. Her first attempt was an absolute failure. Her cheeks burned, very aware of the fact that Arya was watching, standing close enough that Daenerys could feel her warm breath on her skin. It would have been distracting, if her mind wasn't already dedicated to the bow. With a grunt of effort, she pulled more vigorously and got the string to bend in the way she'd seen archers do. Arya was ready with encouragement. "Great, now release it and do it again, and this time try to keep your breathing steady."
Arya had a way about her. Even as she was giving direction to correct Daenerys's many mistakes, she managed to make the Princess feel as if she was doing everything right. She pulled the bow string back again, relieved to find it easier to manipulate.
They continued on that way until Arya had sufficient proof that Daenerys could control the bow, then she finally produced a single arrow. With her hands over Daenerys's she showed the novice how to load the bow and prepare it for firing. The gentle touching lit a fire in Daenerys that left her aching when it was time for Arya to step back.
While she was in the midst of raising the bow to its proper position Arya decided to adjust her posture by applying pressure to the small of her back. It worked, Daenerys straightened, but she straightened too much. As she jumped, she lost hold of the arrow and it fell to the dirt.
Arya was on the ground to get it before Daenerys could even locate where it went. Kneeling in front of Daenerys, she took the blame for the delay. "I'm sorry," she said, holding out the arrow so it'd be easier for Daenerys to reclaim. "You'll want to close one eye, you think it'll make it easier to aim, but that's a trick your mind plays. Keep both eyes open."
With an unsteady hand Daenerys took the arrow. She tried to focus but it was difficult with Arya kneeling in front of her. How was she supposed to concentrate on the target and Arya's instructions when she was looking at her like that? "Ar…Are you going to… stay down there?"
"Don't mind me," Arya answered dismissively. "Just load the arrow like I taught you, raise the bow and shoot."
She managed to lift the bow without dropping the arrow, but while she tried to aim, she caught sight of Arya from the corner of her eye and it gave her pause. She sighed. "I won't be able to do this with you down there," she hissed.
Initially it was as if Arya didn't understand. Then she did and a smug smile spread across her face. She said nothing, she just popped up and retreated to her post behind the Princess.
With a deep breath she tried to ready herself. She took stock of her body, her back, her feet, her hands. She tightened her grip on the string but took care not to upset the arrow balanced there.
Exactly as Arya predicted when she tried to see the target from behind the bow, her instinct was to close one eye. She resisted it, trusting in Arya's guidance. Her heart was racing as she drew the string back. She was so pleased with herself that she almost released the arrow early in excitement. Determined to impress Arya she reigned in her emotions and closed her eyes to gather her wits. When she opened them, the target was a little easier to see in the distance and her heartbeat, although fast wasn't pounding hard enough to shake her entire body anymore. She felt more confident than she thought she would when she released the arrow. After holding the bow taut for so long she was surprised by the sudden slack once the arrow was gone. Her whole body slumped, and she lost track of the arrow on its way to the target.
Arya's touch was a comfort on the back of her shoulder. "Close, very close."
Daenerys lifted her eyes. Sure enough, the target was devoid of any arrows, there wasn't a mark on him. Damn! She missed! She really thought she could do it. "I missed," she acknowledged, dejected by her failure.
"It was a good first try," Arya insisted, "and it was probably my fault."
Daenerys scoffed, looking at the woman behind her. "You did everything you could to try and help me, I'm the one who couldn't hit the stupid target."
Arya wasn't in the mood for Daenerys's self-pity. "It was your first try. No one hits a target on their first try, and it was my fault, I should have warned you to keep your arms steady until after the arrow is gone."
She didn't follow. "What?"
"The reason you missed the target is because once you released the arrow you flinched, it knocked the arrow off course."
"It did?"
"I should have warned you, if I had, you probably would've hit it."
Her opinion of this whole experience was improving rapidly. She hadn't wanted to try again, certain she'd just fail, but Arya disagreed. "Another one?" Daenerys wanted to see which of them was right.
Arya bent down and came back with a second arrow. "You can do it, Daenerys, I know you can. Clear your mind, it's just you, your arrow, the bow and the target. Nothing else matters."
She almost insisted Arya be included in the list but held her tongue. There would be time to ensure she knew how important she was after Daenerys had successfully completed the trial before her. Arya promised a reward, and while she was receiving it, she could show the other woman just how much she mattered.
She took her time, hoping her attention to detail would lead to a different result. She fussed over her stance, over her breathing and how the arrow rested against the string. She made three deliberate attempts to empty her mind and focus before she could see clearly enough to choose the ideal place to deposit her arrow.
She aimed for the center of the target's body, hoping the widest area would give her the greatest chance of success but to Daenerys's horror the arrow dropped faster than she thought possible. A crude Valyrian curse left her lips before the arrow struck the ground beneath the target.
"That was really close." Arya said.
This time her reassurance was not needed. Daenerys knew she had almost done it. She was so close she could taste it. She didn't debate whether or not to try again. She could do this. She would. "Can I have another arrow please?" she asked, reaching back.
Arya set the arrow onto her palm and Daenerys thanked her with a smile. While she went through her routine of checks, she was remembering her last arrow and where it had landed. It missed because it dropped too quickly. How could she remedy that? She'd seen archers shoot arrows in arcs that travelled hundreds of yards, but that likely took years to master. Daenerys needed a faster solution. She scoured her limited knowledge of warfare for any strategy but was at a loss. As she reviewed military schemes and tactics, it occurred to her that it needn't be so complicated. It was common sense. She aimed the last arrow at the target's chest, so maybe this time she should aim even higher. If the arrow dropped as sharply as the last one had, she'd still have a chance of hitting something.
She had a plan right about the time she was ready to implement it. Although not particularly devout she offered up a prayer to the God who handled archery lessons.
She held her breath as she watched the arrow move. She couldn't believe how desperately she wanted to hit a stupid target. She'd never cared about such things before and she suspected they'd lose much of their appeal when Arya wasn't there to provide lessons, but today it was of the upmost importance. She couldn't imagine going through all of this to impress Daario, or anybody else, but Arya was special. She made the Targaryen see things in a different way, made Daenerys see herself differently too.
A strong pair of hands turned her and pulled her into a hug. The bow was trapped awkwardly between them, but Arya didn't seem to mind, and Daenerys knew she didn't. "You did it!" the guard exclaimed. "I knew you could. I'm so proud of you."
She heard a gasp that surely came from her. She'd done it, she hit the target!? She tugged free to check for herself and sure enough, saw a single arrow lodged in the lower torso of the target. Daenerys's face ached she was smiling so wide. She did it! Dropping the bow, she twisted and wrapped Arya in a proper, appreciative embrace. "I did it! I can't believe it!"
Arya was smiling when she stepped back. "Good work, if being a Princess doesn't work out, you'll earn a fine wage as an archer."
She felt like screaming. This was so much better than her victory at Harvest Time. Throwing a ball was something anybody was capable of. Shooting an arrow required actual skill. Since she couldn't scream without interrupting the training going on around her, she settled for a joke. "It's a shame the people of Westeros won't let women fight for them, that was fun."
"I know some people in Dorne if you ever decide to pursue your new dream." She knew Arya was teasing her, but her heart wasn't listening. The subtle invitation to join her in Dorne raised Daenerys's spirits even higher than they already were.
There with her lover, the world faded away. All Daenerys could think about was how badly she wanted to kiss her. Hadn't Arya said something about a reward? If so, Daenerys was eager to collect it, right here in the yard.
She likely would have acted on her desires had it not been for the applause she heard from behind them. She leaned away from Arya to trace the source of the sound. She found Aemon, Jaime Lannister and Arthur Dayne watching her. Aemon was the only one clapping however. Further back she saw Jorah too, coming to investigate no doubt. "What are you doing here?" she asked her nephew.
"I was training when I heard you were over here. I decided to come see my favorite aunt. I thought you were just watching Arya, I didn't know you'd be the one practicing."
How long had they been watching? She didn't realize anybody was there. She was glad she hadn't kissed Arya in the heat of the moment, it would've exposed them to their audience. "You shouldn't stop your lessons to watch me. There isn't much to see."
Arya was there to set her straight. "Don't do that," she cautioned, "you did great. You hit the target with only your third arrow."
"Is that true?" Dayne inquired. "This was your first time, Princess?"
She blushed but nodded. "Yes, I'd never even held a bow before today."
She noticed all three men looked surprised, including the Lannister. "You did well then Princess."
Jorah chose that moment to arrive and involve himself. "Hello Princess," he said kindly, knowing she wouldn't be able to ignore him with so many witnesses.
She paused to see if he'd address Arya. It was a test the knight didn't know he was undertaking. Daenerys was giving him a chance to treat Arya with respect, to show he'd moved past their differences. He didn't take it, keeping his eyes on her. "Hello Ser," she answered stiffly.
He noticed her tone and his smile dimmed slightly. "What's going on here?"
"Daenerys is learning the bow," Aemon contributed.
Jorah looked at the Princess, then sought out the target, his eyes settling on the arrow sticking out. "Really?" he asked, moving closer to her. "I didn't know you were interested in archery."
"I wasn't really," she admitted.
"If you did that," he said pointing to the target, "then I'd say keep practicing because you're doing great."
"Arya deserves most of the credit," Daenerys insisted, forcing Jorah to acknowledge her, "she's the one who brought me out here to clear my head. Without her I never would have known how to load the arrow let alone shoot it."
"It's nice to see another Dornish here in the capital," Arthur said to Arya. "You're from Sunspear yes?"
"Yes, Ser."
"Oberyn Martell trained her personally," Daenerys supplied when Arya didn't seem inclined to share more.
Dayne chuckled. "The Viper himself huh? You're very lucky, few can match him, in Dorne or elsewhere."
"He said something similar once while speaking of you," Arya recalled.
"That is too kind," the knight said, brushing aside the compliment.
Arya wasn't having it. "If you know Oberyn then you know 'too kind' is not his way. He is honest to a fault and he says you're one of the best."
Jaime had apparently tired of the mutual back-patting. "Can you do more than teach?" he asked Arya plainly.
Daenerys was angered on her guard's behalf, but Arya was the embodiment of calm. "Ser?"
"Can you shoot a bow or just tell others how?"
"I'm okay," Arya replied, "not as good as some, but better than others."
"Show us! I've seen you wield that sword," he said nodding to Arya's belt, "now show us what you can do with that," he finished by gesturing to the bow Daenerys dropped.
For the final decision Arya looked to Daenerys for approval. Should she make up an excuse so they could leave? She wasn't Arya's keeper, and she didn't like telling her what to do, but in this case, she'd make an exception, if only to wipe the smirk off Jaime's face. "Go ahead, we've got time until my next appointment. Show them."
Arya pinned her with a stare, likely questioning what appointment they had. Daenerys smiled and tilted her chin toward the target. She could explain later that she invented an appointment to appease the men.
Arya went to the quiver first and plucked out three arrows. She set them on the ground next to the bow Daenerys discarded and then got to work. It was informative watching Arya. Not only did she move with a graceful purpose. She did all of the things she advised Daenerys to do, beginning with her breathing, right through to straightening her back and widening her stance. She reached the end much quicker than Daenerys would've and didn't hesitate before releasing the first arrow. Before it landed, Arya was kneeling to grab the next. Rather than standing to fire she took aim from one knee and loosed the arrow with more force than Daenerys could fathom. For the final arrow Arya took two large strides back, until she was standing next to Aemon. She turned her back to the target, leaving Daenerys at a loss for how she intended to strike. There was a beautiful elegance to it when she pivoted. Before coming to a complete stop, she raised the bow and fired. Daenerys was impressed and she wasn't alone. A glance at the others showed they too had taken notice of her ability. Even Jorah's face lacked the contempt she was used to seeing when he was forced to interact with Arya.
With a confidence that made Daenerys ache to claim her lover in front of everyone, consequences be damned, Arya marched to a stand in front of Jaime. "How did I do, Ser?"
Daenerys, Jaime and everyone else looked to the target. In addition to Daenerys's poorly aimed arrow, the dummy now had three more that were all tightly grouped together in the center of his chest. With a new appreciation for how hard it was to aim a bow, Daenerys could only marvel at Arya's accuracy.
"Nicely done Arya," Aemon congratulated.
"Yes," Dayne agreed, "impressive work."
The Lannister was harder to please. "Not bad, how about you try your luck with a target who can actually fight back?"
She waited again, to see if Jorah would say something to Arya. At this point she would have taken anything, including a comment about her choice of weapon or grudging respect for her talent. He bothered with neither.
When it looked like Arya was about to accept Jaime's proposal and begin a match, Daenerys had to intervene. "I'm sorry Ser," she told the Kingsguard, "but I have an appointment and I require my guard, perhaps you can spar another time."
True to form, Jorah couldn't pass up the opportunity to try and reclaim the position he felt entitled to. "Let Arya train," he said, "I can escort you to any appointments you have."
Oh no, that was never going to happen, no matter how politely he dressed it up. Daenerys refused to replace Arya with Jorah. Until she was on a ship bound for Dorne, Daenerys wouldn't allow Jorah to guard her again. "That's a generous offer Ser," Daenerys countered falsely, "but I'm afraid Arya is a necessary part of the meeting. Her opinions would be missed if she didn't attend."
That hit a mark harder than any arrow Arya fired. Jorah's smile was gone, and he glared at Arya briefly before he caught himself. "Well then, we wouldn't want you to be late."
Jaime took the news much better. "Another time Sand," he said, an open invitation to try her hand against one of the best swordsmen in the Realm.
"I'd pay to see that," the Dorishman noted. "I'll gladly fight the winner."
"I look forward to it," Arya told them before she moved on to Aemon. "You," she said pointing at his chest, "keep that sword ready, if I have any energy after your aunt releases me for the evening, I'll meet you here to train."
"I'll be here."
It was sweet to see the developing bond between Arya and Aemon. Before she knew their true relation, Daenerys liked that two of the people she cared about the most were getting along. Now as she watched them interact it meant more, knowing they were both getting what they needed from it. Aemon was spending time with a member of his mother's family, even if he didn't know it yet, and Arya was being reminded that not all her family was lost.
Once she'd finished with Aemon Arya picked up the bow and quiver and ran them back to their original places. It took less than a minute. "Ready for your appointment Princess?"
She smiled. "Definitely. We'll need to hurry however."
They said goodbye to the men and excused themselves. As soon as they were a sufficient distance away to keep anyone from listening, Arya spoke. "What appointment did I forget about? I thought you were free this afternoon."
"I am," Daenerys chirped happily, pleased she'd been able to fool not only Jorah and the others but Arya as well. "I just didn't want to waste the rest of the day watching you spar with Jaime Lannister. You'd win, hurt his pride and he'd insist on fighting until he reclaimed his honor, it would take forever. We have better things to do."
"Like writing more thank you notes?"
"Actually, I believe I was promised a reward if I hit the target," Daenerys reminded her pointedly. "I don't remember, did I hit the target?"
Arya laughed, a carefree, happy laugh. "That's where we're going?"
She nodded seriously. "We're going to go upstairs, lock the door and I'm going to get the reward I earned."
Rather than shock Arya with her brashness, it was Daenerys who was knocked off balance, literally when Arya grabbed her hand and tried to pull her up the staircase with increased speed. It was Daenerys's turn to laugh, deeply, like she hadn't in years.
R-C
After the archery lesson Arya and Daenerys retired to the Princess's chambers, but not one more moment was wasted on those fucking thank you notes. Daenerys didn't even look in the direction of the desk for the remainder of the afternoon. She was much more focused on receiving her reward.
As the left the dining hall, Daenerys mentioned wanting to relax in a hot bath. Arya prepared the water and took her leave. Daenerys told her she didn't need to go, and she was definitely tempted to stay, but she thought the older woman might enjoy some privacy. Before she left, Daenerys secured a promise that Arya would return later that night.
Now she was walking across the yard, seeking out Aemon. She promised she'd train with him. Unfortunately, it wasn't her cousin she ran into, but Jorah. It was a little too convenient to be random, had he been waiting for her? "Pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?"
She knew he was talking to her, but she looked at her surroundings anyway. "Excuse me?"
He came to a stop right in front of her. When he raised his hand, she was temped to remove it at the wrist. He may have been a skilled warrior once, but the years in the capital had made him soft and lazy. "You think you're so special, but I'll let you in on a little secret, Daenerys likes everybody. She'll forget about you long before you make it back to Sunspear and I'll go back to being the guard she trusts, the one she relies on."
This guy didn't have a clue what he was talking about. He didn't know the first thing about Daenerys. He certainly didn't have the right to speak about her feelings. "If I'm insignificant why are you so worried?"
"You think I'm worried about you?" he spat, working hard to appear unbothered.
"I don't think you'd be out here if you weren't," she commented. She could have left it there, but they were alone, and she was tired of this crap. He needed to learn that she could push back too. "I think you're jealous because your precious Princess prefers me to you. You see how quickly I was able to replace you and now you just want me gone so you can feel important again."
"I'm a knight and the Princess's guard," he said after a scoff, "you think I'm jealous of a bastard girl barely finished her training?"
"You were the Princess's guard, you aren't anymore. How many times has she told you to leave her alone? How many more before it sinks in?"
"You just don't get it! You'll be gone soon, and she'll forget all about you." Given how they spent the hours before dinner Arya sincerely doubted that. She was tempted to tell him and shatter his delusions about Daenerys, but she couldn't betray the Princess like that, even if it would destroy Mormont.
"If that's true, why don't you just wait until the wedding? Why do you insist on trying to get me out of the way every chance you get?"
"I do nothing of the kind," he insisted weakly. If she was dumb enough to believe the words, the blush on his neck still would have given him away.
"Really?" she spat sarcastically. "So, it wasn't you who ran to the King to tell him I'd left Daenerys unprotected?" She enjoyed watching him squirm.
"I didn't…"
"Yes, you did," Arya declared. She'd known since the day it happened that someone had to tell the King, and there were few who knew, fewer still who would care. Jorah was the only one that made sense. "I bet you couldn't wait to tell him. Did you check on Daenerys first or did you run straight to him after I left your room?"
Already on edge the current topic made him visibly uncomfortable. When he responded it wasn't the denial Arya thought she'd get. "It's your fault for leaving her."
He wasn't the only one who could be arrogant. She tried to match his tone. "It was totally worth it," she proclaimed, "seeing how happy she was when she opened her present, makes almost dying well worth it."
"Enjoy it while you can," Jorah remarked bitterly. "The wedding is coming up and then your time in King's Landing will be over."
"You're right, I should make the most of it. I guess I'll go back upstairs and spend more of my limited time with Daenerys, she's probably lonely without Missandei around."
"Where's the handmaiden?" Jorah wanted to know.
"Just think if you succeeded in getting me killed, it could be you who gets to spend tonight with her."
She'd apologize to Aemon later, she couldn't be within a hundred feet of Jorah without wanting to kill him, and she really wanted to see Daenerys.
R-C
Author's Note: First, I want to apologize for the delay posting this chapter. My health is problematic at times and can be unpredictable. Lately its left little time for writing and editing. To anybody who is wondering, this story will get done, no matter how long it takes.
Now on to important things – I know most people probably assumed Jorah was behind Arya's troubles, now you have confirmation, and you know what was in the book Daenerys got. I just couldn't imagine Rhaegar giving her a gift that was anything less than one hundred percent pro-Targaryen.
Thanks for reading.