"Come sit," Oberyn directed, "you standing there like that is making me feel like a poor host."
Arya looked around the room. It was larger and better decorated than a substantial number of the guest quarters in the keep. Someone was obviously trying to make a favorable impression on the Dornish Prince. She guessed it was Tywin. Aerys wouldn't care and Rhaegar was too smart to think a pleasant view would alter Oberyn's opinion of the royals.
"Come sit," he said gesturing to the table, "it's been too long since we've shared a drink my friend."
He bent over his bag, searching for something. Arya went to the table. He was right, and Arya had missed him. "Had I known you were coming I would have tracked down a bottle of that wine you like."
With a wicked grin, he straightened up holding a bottle of the very wine she was talking about. "I knew I'd have to bring my own or go without."
She smiled, glad to see her months away hadn't changed Oberyn in the slightest. He would never change. "How long have you been here?"
He located glasses for them and got to work pouring. "A few days. When I arrived, I learned you were escorting the Princess on a trip outside the city." He passed her a glass with an easy smile. "Where did you go? Everyone here was quite secretive about it."
"Highgarden," she replied before taking a sip.
Oberyn understood the significance at once. "Did you see your sister?"
She nodded. "Finding Sansa was the primary reason Daenerys pushed her father to permit her to go. She's there and she's doing well, the Tyrells are kind to her, she's happy."
Oberyn moved his drink aside and then brought his hand down on hers. "That's wonderful. I'm happy for you both. What was it like to see her again?"
She could tell by his eyes that Oberyn hadn't missed the admission she casually slid into her telling, but he was resisting the urge to inquire allowing Arya to focus on Sansa. "It was amazing and infuriating. She's stubborn too, so it wasn't easy, but it was good. She makes dresses and sells them in a little shop near the castle."
Her assumption that Oberyn was holding his tongue proved true a moment later when he asked, "How does Daenerys know you have a sister?"
She picked up her wine but didn't drink from it. Would he be disappointed in her for revealing the truth to a Targaryen? She steeled herself for a potentially negative reaction. "I told her about Sansa," she confessed, "I told her everything, I had to."
"Arya," he admonished quietly before exhaling slowly, "that was incredibly dangerous. She could've…"
"She's known for a while and she hasn't told anyone," Arya reassured him. "She understands why I need to be a Sand."
She knew Oberyn wouldn't be satisfied with that, and he wasn't. "It was still a risk. If she reveals your identity, even unintentionally, you'll end up back in the throne room."
She contemplated not telling him about her near execution, if only to spare him, but he was her friend and she didn't want to lie to him, even by omission. "I've been back, Mormont accused me of desertion to try and get rid of me."
Oberyn was on his feet in a flash. "He did what!?"
"It doesn't matter," she promised him, "it didn't work and that's what helped Daenerys to see things needed to change."
She motioned for him to sit and he did. "What does that mean?"
"Plans are underway to replace the King," she explained. "Daenerys spoke to Olenna Tyrell while we were in Highgarden and Rhaegar is gathering supporters here."
"That's…" he stopped speaking and just shook his head. "I suppose it's better."
"I won't ask you to support him," Arya stated clearly, "but I pledged to do what I could to help Daenerys, and that includes seeing Rhaegar take the throne."
He said nothing for a time, he just took a long drink from his wine. "A lot has happened since you left, hasn't it?" he eventually realized.
"Yes," she acknowledged, "and I want you to hear it all."
He held up a hand to stop whatever she was about to say next and then refilled both of their glasses. When he was satisfied with their quantities of wine, he allowed her to proceed. "Alright, tell me then."
R-C
Daenerys was on her bed, reviewing the book of maps Missandei gave her. Off to the side, she kept a list, two lists actually. She listed the houses likely to support Rhaegar's ascension on the right, and those who would oppose it on the left.
Arya had been a great help in differentiating the two groups. The knowledge passed down by her father about the rebellion proved invaluable as she learned which influential families had reason to see Aerys removed. Arya had plenty to tell, including more than one tragic tale of the King killing a man's children or his wife to punish the smallest of slights. As horrific as those stories were, they were useful now and news. Such things were rarely discussed in the Red Keep, and never with her. She'd been protected from the worst of her father's behavior and that left her at a disadvantage. She had to catch up.
Before Arya, Daenerys assumed her father well regarded by most of the nobility. They prospered under his reign, so she saw no reason why they'd join a plot to replace him, but she was naive Gold couldn't cure all wounds, and men had long memories, especially when it came to those who wronged them. The Tullys in Riverrun were just one example, they were doing well under Aerys's rule, but Arya had been adamant they would side with Daenerys in a heartbeat if she asked. When she expressed doubts, Arya added that mentioning she had Arya Stark's allegiance would solidify the bargain.
She made plans to devote serious time to study in the coming days. She'd go to the library and find books detailing the histories of the various houses. She'd learn what she could about the relationships of each family to her own. Some would undoubtedly be good, many thrived and were unapologetically loyal to the Targaryens in King's Landing, those were not the allies Daenerys was seeking. She wanted the downtrodden, the marginalized, the aggrieved, she wanted the men who had been waiting for a chance like this for years.
It was impossible to overstate how significant it was that Lady Olenna, and the Tyrells were with them. When word spread that she of all people supported Rhaegar, others would follow her lead.
Daenerys had hoped the North would be eager to join them. Support from the largest of the Seven Kingdoms would be meaningful. They certainly had reason to hold a grudge and were frequently ignored not only by her father but by most Southerners. A huge force could amass in the North and no one would notice until they began marching South. It could be an incredible advantage, but one Arya advised her to forget. Even if the whole North wasn't under Bolton rule, Arya questioned if the Northmen would care enough to raise their swords. As Arya put it, "One Targaryen is as bad as the next, so why bother." Hearing that the first time Daenerys bristled, she battled against the instinct to defend her family and won, reminding herself as many times as it took that it was not only Aerys the North had reason to despise. Rhaegar had wronged them too. Arya left open the possibility that she could reach out to a few of her father's most loyal allies, but it was a risky proposition. Ned Stark hadn't lived in Winterfell for a long time, and if they contacted the wrong Lord, it would be over.
Dorne was proving to be equally problematic. Viserys and Eliza's wedding aside, there was no love lost between the Martells and the Targaryens. Their dislike of the King was real and deep seated, but it paled in comparison to how they felt about the Crowned Prince. It was her brother who had been married to Elia and then disregarded her and her children when he no longer wanted them. It was difficult to imagine a scenario where they willingly assisted Rhaegar in his quest to be named King of the Seven Kingdoms.
She was just about to begin assessing likely candidates in the Iron Islands when Missandei arrived at her side and dropped a thick, dusty book onto the desk where she was working. It landed with a thud and dislodged all manner of dust and filth, making the Princess cough as she covered her face. "Thank you for that," she said sarcastically, speaking through the hand she refused to lower.
"I'm sorry," Missandei replied sincerely, waving her hand back and forth to disperse the dust. "I was just so excited that I couldn't wait."
The handmaiden was always happy, but she rarely behaved so childlike. She was smiling brightly and bouncing with excess energy. "What's this?" she wondered, putting her hand on the front cover. It was cracked in several places but was otherwise unscathed for a relic of its age.
"I found it in the bottom of a crate in a storeroom."
"We keep books in the storeroom?"
"Only those which don't fit on the shelves," Missandei told her. Daenerys pictured the library in her mind, with its wall to wall shelves more than twice her height. They had even more books than those they put on display? "This one is in Valyrian, but is written by a Dragonminstrel?" Her uncertainty bled through at the end and she looked to Daenerys for confirmation that she'd said the word correctly.
"Dragon Minstrels were ancient story tellers," she explained "but instead of dedicating themselves to the triumphs and failures of man, these authors were devoted to dragons."
"Really?" Missandei verified in utter disbelief.
"There hasn't been such a minstrel in Westeros for ages. They died out with the dragons. They're rarely spoken of anymore. I only know of them because I've read so much of the Dragonlore."
"It's a good thing you did," Missandei noted. She gently lifted Daenerys's hand off the book and began flipping through. She took care not to damage the brittle pages but moved with obvious haste. "This book seems to be the life-long work of one such man. It begins when he saw a dragon in his youth and carries on until his death many, many years later."
"That's remarkable, you read all this?" she asked her friend, calculating how much there was to learn.
"Hardly," she answered with a chuckle. "I read just enough to understand what it was, but I did discover this."
Arriving at the right page she put her finger on a small paragraph near the bottom. It was faded, but still legible. Daenerys squinted, then looked to Missandei, expecting she would tell the Princess what it said. Missandei smiled and pointed at the text. "Read it, you won't believe it."
Curious she lowered her face to the book. She had to concentrate to see the shapes of the letters, they were more than a little faded. More taxing was taking the words she'd seen and making sense of them in her mind. After she had, she read aloud, slowly.
The others think I'm mad. They think I've lost my mind, but I have never felt better. I think it is they who have lost their grip on reality. How can we claim to tell the story of dragons if we do not see these magnificent creatures through all stages of their lives? We wouldn't dare write a man's history when years of his life were unknown to us, why is it different for dragons? It shouldn't be and after this it won't be. At first light I'll begin climbing the rockface several miles North of where I currently sit. Several dragons make their home on the uneven peaks. I will climb up and watch them, for as long as it takes. I will not stand on solid ground again until I have witnessed a dragon's birth with my own two eyes.
Daenerys couldn't believe what she was reading. Her head snapped up and she sought out Missandei. "Is this true?" It couldn't be? Since Illyrio gave her the dragon eggs she'd made it her mission to learn what she could about them, but deep down she knew the chances of discovering something new were slim. Now she was looking at evidence to the contrary. "This is unbelievable." A thought occurred to her and a knot formed in her stomach. "Did he survive? Did he finish the story?"
With a nod Missandei picked up the book and began turning more pages. Once she'd found the right one, she placed it in front of Daenerys again and pointed to where the Princess should begin.
I've done it. I am the first of my kind to observe a dragon egg hatching and live to tell. I understand now why all the others who attempted the endeavor failed to return. Firstly, the rumors were true, one of the dragons on the peak did have an egg. I've seen all manner of egg hatch in my life, chickens, birds, even those slimy lizards that occupy the riverbed, but nothing prepared me for watching a dragon enter the world.
I'd been on the peak for days, just waiting, staying hidden on the far side of the cliff when the dragons were near and venturing closer only when they were gone or sleeping. I was beginning to think I would need to return to town and stock up on supplies, but then the largest of the four dragons I'd been watching returned alone. He'd been gone for several days and came back carrying a dark egg in his razor-sharp talons. Until that moment, I'd only seen dragon eggs in pictures or from very far away. Now after only a fleeting glance I knew I'd drastically misjudged them. I wrongly assumed they would be similar to the other eggs I'd seen, larger, but not unique. How ridiculous.
With a shriek that had me cowering, the dragon opened his claws and released the egg while it was still in the air. It dropped quickly, and I was certain it was going to shatter against the unforgiving rocks, but it didn't. Despite landing hard, the egg didn't break, it didn't crack, it didn't even dent.
The dragon waited only long enough to ensure the egg was safe and then he flew away. My mind filled with ideas about where he might go. Was he going to get the others? Had he chosen to abandon the egg? Had he gone perhaps to secure the food the hatched dragon would surely need?
Alone with the egg I couldn't help but want to get a better look. It landed with a thud and not a crack, but I wanted to check for myself that it hadn't broken. I crept closer, keeping one eye on the sky, wary of the dragon's return.
From several feet away I was able to confirm the egg was every bit as large as it had seemed at a distance. More unexpected was the texture and coloring. I was captivated by the intricate design on the shell. All other creatures I'd seen, their eggs served only a functional purpose, but this dragon's egg was almost decretive. It was dark, with black, grey and purple swirls passing through. It was beautiful in its own right. I couldn't look away.
The shell appeared uneven, so I reached out and tentatively touched it to verify it was. The hard, coarse egg was unlike anything I'd felt before. The foreign feel was all too appropriate for a dragon.
I was back in my hiding place less than ten minutes when the dragon appeared overhead. The same one who dropped the egg was alone again, and this time he carried nothing. He stayed in the air longer than was usual, circling over the egg. Several times I wondered if he could see me. It was almost an hour before he landed.
For the next three days I waited anxiously for something to happen. Afraid to sleep, I was starving and in desperate need of water, but I couldn't go back empty handed, not when I was so close.
It happened late one night. By luck and not design I was hidden behind the dragon. He remained alone. I hadn't seen any of the other three dragons who resided there since the arrival of the egg. Was this deliberate or coincidence? I had so many questions. I stayed low to the ground, peeking around rocks, doing my best to keep watch without announcing my presence. There was little warning, one moment he was standing near the egg as he often did, and the next he was breathing fire directly onto it. Even from my place dozens of feet away I could feel the intense heat. It is something I'll never truly recover from. The strength of the flames was breathtaking. Had I been hiding on the opposite side, in a way that afforded me a view of the dragon's face and mouth I would've been burned along with the egg. I can't help wondering how many scholars like myself met their end that way?
The fire was so all-consuming, so terrifying that it made it difficult to think of anything else, but as the dragon's mouth closed and the flames subsided, I heard for the first time a distinct crackling sound. I blamed it on the fire and not the egg at first, believing that nothing could survive such an onslaught of flames, but I was wrong. While I watched in wonder the flames dimmed low enough to spot the egg in the center. It broke apart surrounded by fire, separating in thick, uneven pieces. When the last of the shell had fallen away what was left was a small dragon. From where I was, it was impossible to be exact, but the colors of its flesh and scales appeared to match the shades on the egg. The wings were much larger than the body, and its legs though thin, were steady. Having seen what I set out to, I immediately began crawling away. The last thing I wanted was to be discovered and become the new dragon's first meal.
I had barely started when the cliff shook under the full-grown dragon's mighty roar. I instinctively froze, glancing toward the beasts. The newly hatched dragon didn't seem to notice me, but the elder clearly had. I was certain my end had come. I muttered a feeble prayer to the Gods and readied myself as best I could. Death never came. In a gesture I can only describe as dismissive the dragon turned his large head away from me, focusing once again on his young.
I didn't need another invitation. I scurried as quickly as I dared toward the edge and began climbing down. I was nearly on the ground, my heart still racing, when it occurred to me, I hadn't done anything different when I was caught. I was crawling around the cliff and rocks exactly as I had been for days. Why had the dragon noticed me this time? The only logical conclusion was obvious, and I wanted to laugh at my own ignorance. Of course he had known I was there. I thought I was being so deceptive but what hope did I, a mere man have of outsmarting a dragon?
I was on the ground when I followed that particular thought to its completion. "He let me live," I said aloud. He knew I was there, and he let me watch anyway.
"He survived," Daenerys said as she reached the end of the chapter. "I can't believe it."
"It matches what we know," Missandei noted, "the hard shell, the colors."
"They were born in dragonfire." She shook her head and closed the book. "It makes sense in a way," she acknowledged, thinking through what she knew and what she'd just uncovered. "I always wondered why the eggs never hatched, but maybe this is why. When the last dragon died, there was no one to breathe the fire they needed." Though logical, the prospect saddened her, because it left open the possibility that many more dragon eggs existed out there, and like hers, had no chance of being born. They'd waste away to nothing, becoming dead before they ever got the chance to live.
With awe she shook her head. "Just imagine what other secrets this book has to share."
"We will find them all," Missandei predicted, "but first you need a bath. The King is expecting a report about what happened at Highgarden."
Daenerys wanted to sit down with the book and think of nothing else, but Missandei was right. Her father had given her two hours to rest and recover from the journey and she squandered most of it reading. "Ready the water," she directed. While Missandei did that, Daenerys focused on the book. With the upmost care she tucked it away in one of her desk drawers. It would be safe there, until she could read the rest. She was already looking forward to it.
R-C
It took over an hour for Arya to tell him everything she felt he needed to know. He'd especially enjoyed when Rhaegar thought he sent her with malicious intent. He was proud when she spoke of saving Missandei from the thief, amused when she recounted Daenerys's nameday and horrified each time they discussed the King's erratic behavior. He refilled their drinks often and asked a lot of questions about Sansa to allow for reprieves between the heavier topics. She'd known deep inside that Oberyn would never conceal her sister's attempts to make contact, but it was still good to see his shock and then outrage when he learned Doran or someone else in the Water Gardens had been preventing her from communicating with Sansa.
"I didn't know," he promised her. "I would never have kept it from you, if I had. When we get back, I'll speak to Doran about it and…"
"It's okay," she said, meaning it. "Sansa and I have been reunited."
"Yes, and it could have happened years ago if my brother and others had done the right thing."
Aware that she'd never be able to talk Oberyn out of his anger, she chose to change the subject instead. "This is the last place I thought I'd see you."
"It had been too long," he said, his tone and posture softening. "I wanted to see you, to see with my own eyes that you were alright."
"I am alright," she confirmed, "and I appreciate you making the trip. It couldn't have been easy, especially not travelling with Viserys."
Oberyn's expression left no doubt that the route back to her had been long and unpleasant. "There wasn't a person in the Water Gardens who was sad to see him go."
"I feel for Eliza, being his wife will be difficult."
"I know, I've spoken to her about it. She knows she can come to me if she needs help."
She remembered one of her earliest meetings in the capital. "She'll be the Lady of Dragonstone."
"I heard. I urged Doran to reconsider, but he refuses to stop it."
She rolled her eyes. "It's easy for him, he's not the one who will be married to a tyrant."
"I love my brother," Oberyn said to start, "but he's wrong this time, and Eliza is going to pay for it."
"I'll do what I can for her, and I know Daenerys wants to help her as well," Arya offered.
"You'll be in Sunspear, there will be little you can do. Once they are married, what happens in their home is between them. No one will intervene."
She swallowed hard. She put it off for as long as she could, but the time had come. He deserved to know and telling him wasn't going to get any easier. She feared he wouldn't understand. He hated the Targaryens for good reason, and Arya was choosing Daenerys over him. Since she lost most of her family, she had no choice but to make brothers of a different kind to fill the void. These siblings didn't share her blood but were no less important. She loved Oberyn and didn't want him to hate her. "I'm going to stay. Daenerys needs me and…"
"You're staying?" he repeated in disbelief. "Here?"
She nodded, but couldn't keep from looking down, afraid of what she'd see if she met his stare. "Do you remember when we were in Essos, you told me to go, to make a life of my own, one where I could do what made me happy."
"You said you wanted to be a soldier, you completed your training, you have a position waiting for you at home."
Home. As she thought of it, she saw flashes of all the homes she'd known. There were grey banners and snow-covered hills, the unforgiving sun, hot sand under her feet and a spear in her hand, and Daenerys's smiling face. "I found my place," she told him. "I hate it here, but I love Daenerys and I can't abandon her."
"Love," he whispered when he heard her say it.
"I'm sorry, I know how much you've done for me, and I'm grateful, I swear I am, but I just can't leave her. She's so alone here."
She felt the warmth of his rough hand over hers on the table, but still she couldn't bear to lift her gaze. If he was angry or worse, disappointed it would destroy her. She wasn't strong enough for that. "Look at me," he commanded.
Slowly she raised her eyes, willing herself to face this with bravery. She saw sympathy. Oberyn was leaning toward her, with his elbow on the table. "It's okay, you're okay, we are okay."
Unshed tears blurred her vision. "I'm sorry."
"Don't," he warned. "Don't apologize for being in love, not to me or anyone else. It is the best of things. Many of the greatest mistakes I've made involved the women I loved."
She smiled against her tears. She always smiled when Oberyn talked about his romantic history. It was obvious each time he did that he had fond memories. He cherished them as fervently as he did the daughters who were living proof of his various partners. "I've missed you," she admitted freely, "and I miss Dorne, but Daenerys needs me here."
"It's okay," he told her again. "I'd follow Ellaria anywhere too, even here."
She smiled at the comparison but was quick to set things straight. "I don't know if we'll last as long as you and Ellaria, she's supposed to marry Loras Tyrell."
He barked out a laugh. "I have a better chance of bedding him than she does."
"I know, she says nothing will change but I'm not so sure." She didn't mean to reveal her doubts, but she couldn't help it. She didn't have anyone else to confide in.
"Perhaps she's right, perhaps not, but just because it doesn't last forever doesn't mean it can't be special or that it isn't important."
"So, you think I should stay?" she asked, desperate for some hint that she was on the right path.
"Only you know how you feel," he stated wisely, "but whether it's tomorrow or ten years from now, you'll always have a home in Sunspear and a family waiting there."
No longer content to stay seated she stood up and hurried around the table. Oberyn was on his feet by the time she reached him. She jumped into his arms. "Thank you so much," she said as her grip on her emotions faltered. "Thank you for everything!"
She always expected she'd express her desire to remain in King's Landing to Oberyn in a letter. She delayed writing it but knew eventually she'd have no choice. She didn't realize just how badly she needed Oberyn's acceptance until she stood in his arms sobbing all over him. He was her family and whatever the future held, it gave her comfort knowing she'd have him in it.
R-C
Spirits were high as Daenerys and Missandei left her bedchamber for the throne room. In her mind she practiced what she intended to say. It wasn't just her father she needed to convince.
How best to summarize all that had happened? Although, she had no desire to marry Loras, Daenerys knew precisely how lucky she was. She could've been forced into a marriage with a demanding, abusive jerk, like Eliza was. Once wed, she'd have little recourse. Marriages were sacred and private. A wife had few options beyond suffering in silence. It wouldn't be like that with Loras. Somehow her father had chosen for her a man who wanted to be married even less than she did. To the world they'd be husband and wife but hidden beneath the surface they'd be friends who protected one another's secrets. They had a lot left to talk about and decide, but Daenerys knew a better offer wouldn't find her, not unless the King and his heir suddenly decided a Dornish bastard was an appropriate partner for Westeros's Dragon Princess.
"Shall I go and get Arya?" Missandei proposed. "She's probably with Prince Oberyn."
That was a good guess. The last thing Daenerys wanted would be Oberyn and Arya's time getting cut short. Yes, she missed Arya but that had little to do with not feeling safe and much more just wanting her close. "She deserves a chance to visit with her friend."
"As you wish, Princess," Missandei said, her undying loyalty evident. "Would you like me to arrange for another guard.
Two options immediately presented themselves – Daario and Jorah. Inviting Daario to protect her now would only undermine all her efforts to distance herself from him. He'd likely interpret her choosing him as proof that she wanted to rekindle their affair. That would be counterproductive. She thought she got through to him last time when she confessed that she loved someone else. It wasn't worth undoing all that just to have a guard.
Jorah was an even less appealing option. Daenerys's anger still ran deep over the part Jorah played in trying to get Arya executed. Even if it was only for one meeting, she didn't want him to get the impression he was forgiven. "No, it's okay."
"You need a guard, and not only for your father, if Arya learns that you…"
She didn't need Missandei to finish for her point to be valid. Her father's disappointment and ire she was used to enduring, upsetting Arya on the other hand was intolerable. She considered selecting a random soldier on patrol and giving him a new assignment but then the throne room came into view and a whole other idea began to take shape.
"Aemon!" she shouted, rushing toward him. He was standing there, alone, off to the side, waiting for someone or something before going in.
"Just the person I wanted to see," he said opening his arms for a hug. She went to him. "Don't think I've forgotten, I want to hear all about your trip."
"You will," she swore, "I promise." They separated before Daenerys continued, "I'm glad you were here. How would you feel about serving as my guard for this meeting?"
Grey eyes so alike Arya's widened, and he looked around, checking for the one person who wasn't there. "Is Arya okay?"
His concern was touching, and it made clear how engrained the bond was between them, even without Aemon knowing of their blood relation. "She's fine, I just gave her permission to spend the afternoon with Oberyn. She's missed him."
"That's nice of you."
"So, do I have a guard?"
"Of course, I'd be honored."
When the meeting came to order, it seemed her father was still having a good day. He was as logical, as he'd been when he greeted them outside. "I'd just like to say one more time, to my daughter and all those who were gone, 'welcome home!'"
Attempting to get ahead of the fact that they were a day later than the deadline she'd been given, she addressed it directly. "Thank you, Father, and may I just say I am sorry we were so late arriving. It is entirely my fault and regret if it caused problems for anyone here."
She watched her father closely, trying to determine the extent of his outrage, but what she saw was a man who was confused more than angry and who appeared inclined to forgive. "That doesn't matter," the King ruled calmly. "All I care about is that my daughter has returned safely."
At a loss to explain Aerys's kindness she looked to those around her. Missandei looked surprised but happy, as did Aemon. Next to her Viserys was seething in silent fury and Rhaegar watched the exchange in silence, with a slight smile on his face.
"How did things go in Highgarden?" Tywin asked for the Crown.
He wasn't looking to Daenerys for the answer, he was speaking to his son. "It went well," Tyrion said, looking to Daenerys for permission to go on, she provided it with a nod. "The bond between the Tyrells and the Targaryens is as strong as it's ever been."
"And the negotiations?" Tywin pressed.
"The Princess took the lead in the negations, I'll let her speak to them."
All eyes were on her, she cleared her throat, gathered herself and then spoke as confidently as she could. "It went well," she said to begin with. "Both Loras and I agreed that it would be to the benefit of both houses if we were to marry."
"You did?" Rhaegar verified.
"We did," she said while looking directly into her brother's eyes. "Since Viserys's wedding is upcoming, Loras and I decided to take things slow."
"What does that mean?" Tywin asked, a little harsher than Daenerys was expecting. "Did he agree to marry you or not?"
"He did," she replied. "He'll be passing through the capital soon on his way to a tournament, and we've made plans to meet. If my schedule permits, I may even accompany him to the tourney." The words tasted bad on her tongue, but she reminded herself that Loras would be a good husband. He'd ask little of her, and there was no reason she couldn't continue to be with the person she actually loved, since Loras too would be seeking companionship outside their union.
Clearly many of the King's advisors hadn't anticipated a successful negotiation. Tywin was the most vocal, asking, "He agreed to marry you?"
Rhaegar provided a brief but emphatic "Really?"
And Varys contributed a quiet, "Well this will keep things interesting."
She answered all of them at once. "Yes, Loras and I came to an understanding that had the full support of Mace and the rest of the Tyrells," Daenerys decreed, enjoying the way she was unsettling so many.
"Congratulations Dany," Rhaegar said, shaking off whatever doubts he had and remembering his obligations as her brother.
"Yes," Aerys said. He stepped down from the throne with Jaime Lannister at his side. When she realized he was walking toward her, she stood up and stepped forward to meet him. "I'm proud of you sweetheart. Congratulations, the Tyrell will make a fine husband."
A few brave souls in the audience snickered at that, but Daenerys's only focus was her father. She couldn't recall the last time he'd been this generous and forgiving. "Thank you, Father," she said, "Loras and I agree, we're a good match."
As they embraced the court cheered, though she couldn't say if they were clapping to applaud Daenerys's wedding or the interactions between the King and his daughter.
Once their moment was over, the King returned to the Iron Throne and Daenerys to her seat. Tywin had more questions about their trip but directed them exclusively to Tyrion. While she listened, she thought about the reactions she got when discussing her potential marriage. Tywin had likely been the driving force behind the idea, so why did he seem less than thrilled to hear it was a success? Varys's curiosity could be explained away easily enough. He was undeniably a talented spymaster, but surely this couldn't be the first time a meeting had an outcome he couldn't anticipate. Lastly there was Rhaegar, she had questions about Rhaegar's attitude, but was far more interested in why her brother hadn't told her about the purpose of the negotiations before they left. He had tried to dissuade her from going but didn't mention the marriage directly. Why not? It might've caused her to reconsider.
When they were dismissed Daenerys was tempted to escape and go in search of Arya, but she quelled the urge and approached her brother's chair. To get to Rhaegar, she had to pass Viserys. Without speaking it was obvious the second born was upset at his sister. She'd only been back a few hours, they'd spent almost no time together, what could she have possibly done to offend him already?
"What was that?" she asked Rhaegar. She took care to keep her voice low.
"Not here," he tried to redirect her.
"Why does everyone except Father seem thoroughly unhappy that the marriage they arranged might actually happen?"
"Not here!" he repeated.
He was brushing her questions aside, but he wasn't the only one with answers. She thought about asking someone else, but who? Tywin would have no incentive to share his feelings, and Varys was a master at both lying and hiding his true emotions.
Since she couldn't talk about what was really on her mind, she addressed a secondary issue. "How long has Father been like that?"
Rhaegar who had been firm in his refusal to talk about what was happening, opened up a bit on the subject of Aerys. "Enjoy it while it lasts," he advised, "by this time tomorrow he'll probably be back to his old self."
Although she knew it was unlikely, she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't follow up for more details. "When did it start? Do we know what caused it? Maybe we could…"
Rhaegar used his free hand to touch Daenerys's arm. "Yesterday, he spent an entire meeting talking about the whispers and what they were saying." She knew to anticipate sharp changes, she knew better than to hope for him to improve, but he was still her father and hope seemed like the least she could do for him. "This morning he woke up like this. The Maester can't say if tomorrow will be better or worse, there is just no way to know."
"I know," she said, because she really did. They'd had this conversation countless times before. Logically she knew better than to expect a miracle, but each time he had a good day, each time he treated her like a daughter he adored rather than a stranger he tolerated, she couldn't help hoping that the change would be permanent. It never was of course, and Daenerys constantly had to mend the damage to her heart as her dreams of a loving father got dashed again and again.
Across the room Varys was speaking with Tyrion when he looked over and met her eye. He nodded and she returned the gesture while she debated if she should go over to him. She hadn't decided if she held Varys responsible for the bandits who stopped them on the road. When they discussed it, she and Arya were on opposite sides. Daenerys wanted to confront him and see how he answered the charges against him. Arya thought it would be a mistake to reveal what they knew before they had a better understanding of his motivations. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, so she did nothing, at least for the time being.
R-C
Arya had left Oberyn and was on her way to find Daenerys when she ran into another Targaryen. She was prepared to walk past Viserys without so much as an extended glance between them, but Daenerys's brother was in a more talkative mood.
"Arya, right?" he asked as they came together from opposite ends of a long hallway.
"That's right Prince," she confirmed, "welcome home." Her kind words were hollow, meant to be polite, because it was necessary. She didn't care for Viserys, but he was Daenerys's brother and a Prince.
"I saw you in the yard, you're quite skilled. I'm beginning to understand why my dear sister has taken such a liking to you."
She didn't know what game he was playing, but she knew better than to trust Viserys Targaryen. "The Princess is very kind. I'm just a simple soldier."
"I'd say you're more than that," he went on. "I've been watching you, and you're quite something. Come to work as my guard, when I move to Dragonstone you can lead the troops my father is giving me."
She chose her words carefully, acutely aware of how volatile the young Prince could be. "That is a very generous offer Prince, and I'm flattered by it, but I'm sworn to your sister."
The soft, inviting tone was gone in a blink. "You really want to defy me?" he asked, his anger building with each word.
This was the Viserys she'd met in Dorne, this was the one she knew. "As I said, I'm flattered by the interest, but until the Princess releases me, I'm bound to her."
"That's a mistake," he said bluntly, "but it's yours to make. I'd still like to get to know you better." She said nothing, because she could sense that there was more coming, she was cautious as she waited for it. "Perhaps you and I could get acquainted tonight," he suggested.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight. They warned of danger and she took heed. "I'm afraid I have plans with the Princess tonight," she said to try and put an end to whatever this was.
With a smirk that made her skin crawl, Viserys waved away her rejection. "I'll take care of Daenerys you just be in my bed when I arrive."
Bile burned the back of her throat. She'd known from the moment Viserys addressed her that it wasn't because he wished to make peace between them. She'd been wary and anxious when she couldn't tell what he was working up to, but now that she knew she wished for the ignorance back. Viserys wanted to sleep with her? "Excuse me?" she said, because all other words failed her.
"My bed, tonight," he ruled with an a1uthority.
"As I said, I have plans with your sister."
"Not anymore. You'll be in my bed when I arrive, or I'll go to my father and tell him you're plotting against the Realm."
Arya felt sick. The ease with which Viserys worked through her various defenses, made it clear this wasn't his first time. How many others had he done this to, how many different women suffered the indignity she seemed destined to? It was probable that Arya was nothing more than the next in a long line. Was there nothing she could do?
"I'm a guard, not a whore."
Her resistance didn't deter him. "You're whatever a Targaryen needs you to be," he corrected. "That may have meant you spent the last months protecting my sister, but tonight it'll require you to join me."
"Daenerys…"
"I've already made arrangements to ensure Daenerys will be protected. You needn't worry about anything, except fulfilling my every need."
Her emotions were on a pendulum, swinging from dread to rage and back at an uncatchable speed. "I'm not a whore!" she told him again, as her anger bubbled up under the surface.
"Don't underestimate yourself," he countered smugly. "The King has little tolerance for traitors and once I tell him what I discovered about you…"
"What did you discover?" she fired back. He didn't have anything, and in another castle, under a different King that might've mattered.
"Don't you worry about that. I can be very creative when I have the right incentive." It was obvious that he was enjoying himself, taking pleasure from the fact that he had her trapped. "When you're being tortured for crimes against the Crown, you're going to wish you'd made a different choice, believe me."
Was that it? Was that all her life had become? She had to choose between two horrible options; either sharing Viserys's bed or being tortured and executed for crimes she didn't commit.
"I'll see you later Sand," he said with a laugh. He left her there dumbfounded to bask in the hopelessness of her situation. He was several feet away when he stopped to taunt her again. "Don't worry, I'll tell Daenerys you're unavailable to serve her tonight."
The arrogant smirk said more than the words he used. That's when she knew for certain that all of this was to hurt Daenerys. Being the weapon turned against the woman she loved was more painful than anything Viserys had planned for her.
R-C
Daenerys, Missandei and Aemon had been all over the keep searching for Arya. First, they checked Daenerys's bedchamber, then Oberyn's guestroom and lastly the barracks. They couldn't find her anywhere.
The only hint came when Oberyn told them that he and Arya had spoken and shared a bottle of wine, before she left to meet up with the Princess. When she worried, Oberyn reminded her it was a big castle with lots of places to look. Missandei and Aemon added that Arya was beyond capable of looking out for herself and despite all of that being true, Daenerys couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong.
On her way to illicit the Unsullied in her hunt, she walked past Viserys and his guard Trant. She had no intention of stopping. Viserys didn't say anything, but he did seek out and hold Daenerys's gaze, smirking in that particularly slimy way of his. She brushed it off. Her brother would need to wait, Arya was the priority.
Walking away from the barracks, she felt a little better about the whole mess. Grey Worm and a contingent of his most loyal men would scour the castle grounds for Arya and pass along the message that Daenerys was looking for her. With the outdoors covered, Daenerys pledged to redouble her efforts inside. "We should check your bedchamber again," Missandei advised.
"Where do you want me to look?" Aemon asked, willing to help in any way that he could.
"Can you go past the kitchen?" Daenerys asked as she grasped for any innocent explanation for where Arya may have gone. She hadn't been out of touch all that long really, but Daenerys's instincts told her she needed to get to Arya and soon!
Her bedchamber was empty, and what was worse, there was no sign Arya had been there since they last checked. Where could she be? She was debating whether or not to leave her lover a note when a knock on the door divided her attention. "Arya come in!" she yelled, moving away from the desk.
Daenerys was nearly in Arya's arms before she realized the person coming through the door wasn't her lover at all. Jorah Mormont was in her place, all too willing to accept the hug Daenerys was offering.
To worried to let the awkwardness bother her she dropped her arms to her sides and glared at the knight who had been her friend once. "What are you doing here?"
Accepting that she wasn't going to rush into his arms, he lowered his too. "I… I'm…"
She didn't have patience for this. "What are you doing here!?" she asked loudly, separating each word with an extended pause to make sure it was perfectly clear.
"Your brother sent me," he said in a rush to justify his presence, "he told me you'd need a guard this evening."
"I don't need a guard," she replied vehemently. "I have Arya and why would Rhaegar send you…"
"It wasn't Rhaegar," Jorah admitted, "Viserys is the one who told me Arya wouldn't be available to be your guard tonight. I'm here because I thought…"
"Stop!" she ordered, not caring that she was being rude. The uncomfortable feeling she'd been wrestling with as she searched for Arya was changing into something else, something darker and more debilitating. She had to put a hand on the wall to keep upright. Viserys had arranged this? She didn't know his reasons, but they couldn't be good. Her brother didn't have a compassionate bone in his body and everything he did was done with a self-serving objective. Her need to find Arya was even more urgent now.
"Daenerys, I just…"
She didn't want to hear it. The last thing she had time for listening to Jorah justify his dislike of Arya or the reasons he felt entitled to be Daenerys's guard. "Get out!" she shouted.
"Princess," he tried, softening his voice to make him less threatening, "there is no need for that."
"Viserys was wrong. I don't need your assistance, and I don't want your company, so you can leave."
She knew before he opened his mouth that he wasn't going to obey her. He was defiant. "You need a guard."
"Not in my bedchamber I don't. Aemon is on his way back, he'll provide protection until we locate Arya."
"You think Arya's missing?" Jorah deduced after a prolonged pause. "She's not, Viserys said he assigned her a job, something he needed to get done before the wedding."
Was Jorah under the impression that thinking Arya was with Viserys was somehow better than her being unaccounted for? Daenerys got no relief from the idea that Arya was somewhere with her petty brother. "What job?"
He averted his eyes. "I don't know, he didn't say. I'm sorry, Daenerys."
"Get out!" she yelled. If Jorah didn't have any other useful information, she was wasting time looking at him.
"I can help. I can help you search.".
"Why would you?!" she asked him hotly. "You wanted Arya dead, what do you care if Viserys harms her?"
"I regret that, you know I do," he said, defending his actions, "but why would Viserys hurt Arya? They don't know one another, and Arya hasn't been around long enough to anger him."
As he asked the question, the answer came to her. She remembered a guest room in the Water Gardens where she would have been beaten by her enraged brother had Arya not stepped in to save her. Viserys believed their father would have called off his wedding and returned to the capital, had Daenerys not spoken out in Arya's defense. Viserys didn't know how to forgive or forget. He was just the sort of man to stew in his anger for months, letting it fester until he got back. It was nearly too much for Daenerys to take. Whatever was happening was her fault. He was hurting her and using Arya to do it. Viserys had unknowingly chosen the perfect target.
Standing became too challenging and she sank to the floor as a sob tore from her chest. Jorah reached out for her, but Daenerys preferred the floor to his touch. Luckily, she didn't have to choose. Missandei hurried past Jorah and kept her from falling by taking most of her weight. "Come on, we can go and see if the Unsullied have found anything."
"He's going to hurt her, because of me," she whispered.
"We'll find her," Missandei insisted.
They were in the hall before Daenerys noticed she had shadow. She looked over her shoulder and saw Jorah following from a few steps behind. "I told you to leave," she reminded him, while Missandei continued to guide her away.
"Forget him," Missandei encouraged, "he's not important. Let's find Arya."
She was right. Arya needed her. Daenerys knew as well as anyone just how depraved her brother could be and she wouldn't leave Arya in his clutches a second longer than necessary. She'd been through too much already at the hands of Targaryens. With purpose she straightened up and began walking under her own power. "Thank you."
"Are you alright?"
"I won't be until I know Arya's safe, but there will be time for crying later. Arya needs me now." She heard the words in her own ears. and they kept her focused. Nothing mattered more than Arya.
"Yes, she does," Missandei agreed. "Where do you want to start looking? It's a big castle."
"We need help," she decided. It would take far too long to search the entire keep, so she'd need to enlist allies, but who? "Go to Grey Worm and get them started searching indoors as well. They can start near the barracks and move across."
Missandei nodded to make clear she would do as she was asked, but she had another idea too. "Should I request the help of the Second Sons as well."
She thought of Daario and almost declined. He would surely try and use the situation to his advantage and Daenerys didn't like the idea of owing him a favor, but Arya was running out of time. "Do it."
"Anyone else I could reach out to?"
"What about Varys?" Jorah proposed from the rear. "No one knows more about what is going on around here than he does. If Arya is missing, he'll know where to look."
Missandei hesitated, aware of the conflicted feelings Daenerys had about the Spider. "No," she ruled. "I don't trust him."
"That's a mistake," Jorah said in an attempt to persuade her. "Varys isn't perfect but…"
"If I can't trust him," Daenerys interrupted, "then I won't be able to believe a word he says. He'd be a liability. I won't waste valuable time on a man I can't rely on."
"Tyrion then?" Missandei proposed. "He's almost as well informed as Varys."
That Daenerys could agree to. "Make sure he understands the need for discretion!" Daenerys said before Missandei could get too far away. There were dangers in making Arya the center of attention, it increased the chances people would ask questions about her, gossip about her and potentially uncover the truth about who she really was. Daenerys didn't want that, but she couldn't find her without help. Risks needed to be taken, but she trusted Tyrion to assist without making things worse.
A handful of rooms later, she was no closer to being reunited with Arya. When Daario came rushing toward her, she thought he brought news. "Did you find her?" she asked before he could say anything. This was his chance, if he found her, she'd forgive almost anything.
"My men are looking," he assured her.
"Then why are you here?" Jorah asked him, as a longstanding dispute between them reignited.
"I'm here for Daenerys," he said to Jorah, while looking at the Princess. "I thought we could go wait in your room. My men know to find us there when they've located Arya."
What a joke! Did he really think she was going to go sit somewhere with him and sip wine while they waited for an update? For a man who boldly claimed to know her better than anyone, he didn't have even the most basic understanding of how she felt.
He took the prolonged silence as agreement. "Jorah can keep looking," Daario said, putting his hand on Daenerys's arm. "We'll go and wait for word."
She snatched her arm out from under him so roughly she nearly struck him in the process. "You are unbelievable," she said more to herself than to him. "You just can't help yourself. You hear I need help and your first instinct is to run in here and try and make use of it."
"That's not…" Daario started to say.
She threw up her hands. "For two men who hate each other so passionately, you are more alike than either of you care to admit."
The sell-sword appeared offended by the comparison. but said nothing. It was Jorah who verbally disputed the claim. "I didn't do anything. I came to help."
"You tried to get Arya killed," she accused him fiercely.
"That was diff…"
"You did what?" Daario asked with a smug, satisfied smirk. He cut off Jorah's latest excuse, but Daenerys barely heard it.
"It's none of your business," the knight contended.
Daenerys had spent too much of her life involved in meaningless, repetitive conversations like this one. It was time for a change. Without a word she marched away, leaving Jorah and Daario behind her. They both called to her, but she ignored them, sticking her head in the next doorway to see if Arya was there.
"What's going on?" Oberyn asked her as she was coming out of one of the keep's many offices. Still no Arya. "There are soldiers scouring the castle, what are they looking for?"
Daenerys swallowed hard. Could she tell him? She'd promised him she'd protect Arya and now she would need to confess that Arya had gone missing during her watch. That was hardly appealing, but it was a vast improvement over the guilt she'd feel lying to him. "They're looking for Arya."
It was quiet with a thick layer of tension hanging between them. "You still can't find her?"
"I thought we were simply missing each other," Daenerys explained, "that she was in my bedchamber while I was looking for her in your room, but now I know my brother arranged it."
"Rhaegar!?" Oberyn hissed with fire in his eyes.
"No, not Rhaegar, Jorah told me Viserys asked him to serve as my guard because he needed Arya for something else."
She didn't know Oberyn well, but he understood the significance of what she was implying. "We must find the Prince," he said with a grim determination.
"He is in a meeting with my father," she replied. "Has been for more than an hour. Arya doesn't appear to be with him, so…"
"Does Viserys know the truth?" he asked, gripping Daenerys's shoulders and looking her straight in the eye. "Did you tell him?"
There was no mystery about what he was really asking her, it was obvious. Only one truth could cause such a reaction. "No, I'd never reveal such a thing, least of all to Viserys."
"Then we need to find her, before your brother finishes his meeting."
She nodded and was going to speak, but before she could Daario and Jorah arrived, finally catching up with her. They'd been lingering behind her a while but hadn't approached. She guessed they thought she would be reluctant to start a loud, disagreement with witnesses. They were misjudging her and her companion. She didn't care if Oberyn heard her scream at them, in fact, she thought he'd likely join in.
"Princess," Jorah said kindly, "we should return to your chambers, perhaps she's back there."
"Feel free to go check," she retorted, without emotion.
Sighing Jorah prepared for another attempt. Daenerys turned back to the Martell and tried to get them focused on what was actually important. "You know Arya better than anyone. Where do you think she'd go? Did she have a place in Sunspear, or the Water Gardens where she went when she wanted to be alone?"
He considered it a moment and Daenerys took a small measure of comfort from the fact that there was someone who cared for Arya as deeply as she did. In Oberyn she'd find an ally, no matter how long they had to keep searching. "The tower," he announced.
"What tower?"
"In the early days of our friendship," Oberyn began, "she'd sneak away to the Tower of Spear when she needed to think. She said that being up so high made her feel free."
A tower, that was exactly what she needed to know. She began picturing the highest points in and around the castle.
We don't have a Tower of Spear," Jorah supplied unhelpfully.
"No, but we have lots of towers with high windows," Daenerys noted. She hadn't wanted Jorah and Daario to follow her around but perhaps her patience would be an asset now. She assigned each man a tower to search and gave them orders to go. They left, reluctantly, sensing rightly that refusing her wouldn't be healthy.
"Where can I look?" Oberyn asked when they were alone.
"You can come with me," she offered, "I saved the highest tower for us. It's not far."
It was quiet while they walked, but not uncomfortable. More than once she wanted to engage Oberyn in conversation, but she didn't even know where to begin. She couldn't devote the necessary energy to thinking up things to say when all of her was dedicated to Arya and where she might be.
"There is something else you should know," he said as they began making their way up a long, winding staircase.
"About Arya?" she clarified.
She looked back from three steps ahead and saw a severe expression on his handsome face. "More often than not, when she snuck away to the tower, it was because she was thinking about her family. She told me once it reminded her of home, Winterfell had a tower that one of her brother's used to climb."
Having committed everything Arya said about her family to memory, she easily picked out the brother known for climbing. "Bran," she whispered.
The door at the top of the tower was closed, all the other times Daenerys had seen it, it was open, left ajar so the guards patrolling didn't need to take the time to open and close it incessantly.
"This is it," she said quietly as she ran the last few steps, nearly tripping on her dress in the process.
"I'll stay here and make sure you aren't disturbed," Oberyn decided.
This made her stop, her hand resting on the doorknob without turning it. "You aren't coming in?" He had been just as frantic as Daenerys, though he hid it better. He had every right to see Arya too.
He smiled knowingly. "You're the one she wants."
He sounded so sure, it made Daenerys question just how much he knew about their relationship. "You can…"
He didn't let her finish. "Go," he encouraged, "she shouldn't be alone." He nodded toward the door. "No one will bother you."
"You don't have to stay, few people come up here. She picked a good spot."
He chuckled. "She usually does." There was a delay before he asked, "Is there anything else I can do, for her or you?"
That was hard to answer without knowing what made Arya flee, but she could think of one thing. "If you see Missandei downstairs you can let her know we found Arya, and she can call off the search."
She was relieved when Oberyn agreed without asking why. Arya was a proud and private woman. She wouldn't take kindly to knowing Daenerys mobilized half the keep to search for her. If Oberyn could get to Missandei however, she'd never have to know.
"I'll take care of it," he pledged, "you just take care of our girl yeah?"
"Yeah," she vowed seriously. "Thank you." Oberyn's contributions had been the missing piece. Daenerys dreaded to think how much longer it would have taken to find Arya if she hadn't had the Prince's insights.
She waited until he was out of view and then she took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside. Her heart picked up speed when she saw Arya was there, right where Oberyn guessed she'd be, standing in front of the window.
"Arya," she said as she made her way closer, "what are you doing?"
Any relief she felt at finding her lost love disappeared when she heard Arya's response. "Just wondering how badly it would hurt if I jumped."
R-C
Author's Note: I'm genuinely curious what people think of this one. I felt like I didn't capture Viserys properly in my other stories, and I really wanted to get him right this time, so I watched Season One again and tried to recreate is unique brand of maliciousness. I hope I came close.
In other news, Daenerys learned how dragon eggs are hatched.
See you next time,
RC
