The footsteps warned her someone was there. She knew who it would be. It wasn't surprising to hear Daenerys asking what she was doing.
She told the truth, revealing exactly what she'd been contemplating when Daenerys walked in.
"What's wrong. Is it Viserys?" Daenerys asked, barely breathing between the words. She rushed to Arya's side, probably to try and prevent her from doing something drastic.
Inside she seethed as she pictured the Targaryen Prince. She wanted to release everything she was thinking and feeling, just dump it all on Daenerys, but she couldn't. She'd realized fairly quickly that Viserys's motive for demanding her was to hurt his sister. He may be a deplorable man, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what would cause maximum pain.
"Did I ever tell you about the first men I killed?" she wondered aloud.
"N…no, I don't think so. Arya are you okay?"
She ignored the question. "It happened when I was in training," she explained, "they were recruits like me." She stopped and thought back to that pivotal day in her life. Almost a full year before the Targaryens came to Sunspear, when she believed her life would take a whole different road. "I didn't sleep that first night, I was exhausted but too afraid to close my eyes. A woman surrounded by men, our beds close enough to reach out and touch one another if we wanted, and I knew some of them wanted to very much."
She heard the moment Daenerys understood the nature of the story she had to tell. She tried to stop it, but a muffled gasp slipped through. She didn't need to look away from the window to picture Daenerys covering her mouth. "Arya, you don't have to…"
"They worked us hard, 'weeding out the weak' they called it. Twenty quit the first week, but I stayed, I knew it was where I belonged, even if the instructors didn't agree and the other recruits mocked me, I knew. I'd always known, all the way back in Winterfell I preferred swinging a stick and pretending it was a sword to any of the things a proper young Lady was supposed to enjoy."
"You had a dream, there is nothing wrong with that."
She'd appreciate Daenerys's sentiment sometime later. For now, she had a story to finish. "Eventually I couldn't stay awake, I'd fall into a restless sleep, too exhausted to keep my eyes open another minute, tossing and turning, either in fear or from the nightmares."
Two hands caught one of hers between them and squeezed. Even still, she kept staring out the window. "Every day that passed, I knew I was one day closer to something happening." She turned to finally look at the Princess. She had tears in her eyes but glassy or not, they were beautiful. "I was ready," she declared, "there were two of them. They attacked me in the middle of the night."
"They deserved what they got!"
"I had a knife, the one I gave Missandei, I slept with it. When I woke, I knew it could only end in one of two ways, either they were going to get what they wanted, or I was going to have to kill to stop them."
A tear broke free and slid down Daenerys's smooth cheek. She didn't wipe it away, too busy gripping Arya's left hand to do anything else. "You did what you had to do, it wasn't your fault."
Arya wasn't looking for absolution. "I killed them both, pushed their corpses onto the floor at the foot of my bed, and went back to sleep," she recounted. "I put the knife back under my pillow still wet with their blood and you know what?"
"What?" Her voice cracked a little on that single word.
"I slept like a baby. No nightmares, no fear, I just rested for the first time in weeks." Having told the relevant history, she tied it to the present. "From that night, I never doubted what I was, I knew I was doing what I was meant to, what the Gods put me here to do. I'm a fighter."
"Yes, you are," Daenerys agreed gently. She raised Arya's hand to her lips and kissed her scarred knuckles. "You are a fighter and you're a protector and I love you."
"I love you too," Arya told her plainly, willing Daenerys to really hear it, to believe it and take it in. "No matter what, I love you and I don't regret coming here, or choosing you, I wouldn't change any of it."
She lowered Arya's hand away from her face, but only far enough to lean into the guard's space. "Why are you talking like that? Tell me what's happening. I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's…"
"You can't fix it," she declared boldly. That was the sad truth. This was Arya's problem and Daenerys getting involved wouldn't benefit either of them. If she stood up for Arya, it would provide Viserys all the proof he needed, he'd continue using Arya as a weapon against his sister to exact his revenge.
"Don't say that!" Daenerys resisted passionately. "We can do anything! We can, I know it, so just tell me what's going on. What did my brother do to you?"
She laughed humorlessly as she was reminded of a distant memory. She decided to share it with the woman she loved. "My father used to say it was our choices that define us. He said the mark we leave on the world comes from the choices we make in important moments, the things we do, or don't do when it counts."
"Sounds about right," Daenerys commented.
"I believed that. I believed one of my moments was that night in the barracks when I killed two recruits and felt nothing. I made a choice to end their lives and I never doubted it was the right one."
"It was," Daenerys insisted. "Arya, what you did, it was right, you have to know that."
"I believed that," she said, looking away from the Targaryen to stare out the window. She couldn't be watching Daenerys's expressive eyes when she told her why all of this mattered, Arya didn't want to see what her lover felt when she understood what had Arya contemplating all the choices that led her to this place. "If it was right," she summarized, "I don't think the Gods would put me in this position. Forcing me to do it again but putting me against one of the few men in all of Westeros I can't kill. I'm being punished, it is the only explanation, punished for every horrible thing I've ever done."
It didn't take long for Daenerys to put the pieces together. She dropped Arya's hand like it burned. "Viserys," she mumbled under her breath. Arya hadn't wanted to tell her, but she wouldn't lie. She wouldn't tell her everything though, she wouldn't share her suspicion that Viserys's only interest in her was as a means to hurt Daenerys, Arya wouldn't put that weight on her shoulders. Instead she'd let Daenerys believe her brother had other reasons, whether it was a genuine attraction or payback for what happened in Dorne, either was better than Daenerys taking the blame.
"Most of my life I believed my Aunt Lyanna was your brother's prisoner," she said, changing topics wildly. She trusted Daenerys would be able to keep up. "I used to wonder how she died and imagine what I'd do in her place."
Rightly, Daenerys didn't know what to say. Arya could hear her swallowing hard, and fighting tears, but no response came. Arya didn't mind. She had more to share anyway. "I thought I'd die trying to escape, or failing that, then I'd take my own life, cutting my throat or jumping from a window."
When Daenerys realized why that particular memory was relevant, she threw herself at Arya's back, wrapping her arms around her waist and pressing herself firmly against the younger woman's spine. "Don't even think about it!" she ordered.
There was a lot she would do for Daenerys, but that was one request she couldn't honor. The truth was, she'd been staring at the window for a while before the Princess arrived, questioning if she was brave enough to go through with it. She knew the answer now. "Maybe this is another of those moments my father talked about," she guessed, savoring the feel of Daenerys's body against hers. The armor did little to stifle the warmth and it was nice. "Maybe the right choice this time is to fall on my sword or jump from this window."
"No!" Daenerys shouted between sobs that shook the both of them. "No! Stop saying that!"
"I can't do it," Arya admitted in a low, even voice. "I just can't." Daenerys erroneously thought she was still talking about ending her life and loosened her hold on the guard slightly. Arya corrected her misconception. "I can't lay there and let him do what he wants, I can't give up like that."
With a strong arm Daenerys turned her, so she was facing away from the window and looking instead at the heartbroken Dragon. "You don't have to!" Daenerys declared vehemently. "You don't serve Viserys, you serve me! I'm ordering you to stay with me tonight."
She smiled sadly at Daenerys's attempt. "I already tried that, he said that he'd tell your father I was plotting against him." Watching Daenerys sag when she realized her scheme wouldn't work was painful, but it was preferable to what she had to say next. "If I have to die, I don't want it to be there, in front of him, like all the others. I can't let your father be the final thing I see in this world."
With seemingly no concern for her own welfare Daenerys balled up a fist and slammed it into the center of Arya's armor with force. "Stop saying that!" she demanded. "You aren't going to die!"
"What other choice do I have?" she asked, secretly hoping Daenerys could see a solution.
"You aren't dying!" she screamed. "You can run. Oberyn is here, he'll help you. Just go. Viserys will be going to Dragonstone soon, he'll forget about this…"
That was one of the first ideas she considered and then dismissed. Could she flee, yes. But doing so would require her to stay gone and likely dodge Targaryen soldiers for the rest of her days. She wasn't opposed to that, and Daenerys was right, Oberyn would assist her, but she'd never get to see Daenerys again. In some ways that seemed worse than death. Also, she was less certain that Viserys would move on. "He held a grudge the whole time he was in Sunspear and then sprang his trap as soon as he saw me again."
It was clear from her expression that Daenerys hadn't given thought to why her brother was doing this. Now she was. "You think this is because of what happened in Dorne?"
She answered carefully. "I can't think of any other reason he'd suddenly find me so desirable."
Momentarily crestfallen Daenerys found a reserve of strength and made use of it. She straightened up, angrily wiped at the traitorous tears and then crossed her arms over her chest. "Well fuck Viserys, he doesn't get to punish you for doing your job. You're not even his guard, you're mine!" The way she said the last word made it clear she was talking about much more than just her duties as a soldier. "I'll talk to my father, and Rhaegar and explain what's happening, I'll stop this."
Arya lined up their eyes to make sure she had Daenerys's full attention. "This isn't yours to fix. This is my problem."
"Whatever we do, we do it together," she recited, "isn't that what we said?"
"That was different," she tried, knowing it wouldn't work.
"Different or not, it's still true. I love you and I'm not going to let anyone hurt you and that includes my brother! Stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes."
She sounded so sure, so righteous and so strong Arya was tempted to let her go, but she remembered all the reasons that was a bad idea before Daenerys could get too far. "Stop," she said, freezing Daenerys near the door. "Think about what you're saying. Are you going to tell your father or Rhaegar why you care if I sleep with Viserys?" Arya didn't let her reply. "If you do stop him tonight, do you really think he'll give up? Once you defend me, he'll keep pushing, just to see how far you'll go."
"I'll go as far as it takes," she pledged.
Arya had always known she was undeserving of Daenerys's love, but it was entirely too evident in that moment. "I love you, and I love that you're willing to fight for me…"
She didn't get to finish her thought. "What's the alternative?" Daenerys inquired hotly. "Let Viserys rape you? Let you fall on the sword I gave you? Watch you leave and hope my father doesn't send men to hunt you down?"
She didn't respond because she had no good answers to give. She'd been confident she was capable of ending her life before Daenerys came through the door, in the time since she grew less certain. She didn't know which of the options laid out she would take, but she did know the choice and the consequences were hers. She refused to share that burden with Daenerys.
"Just kill him," Daenerys said as her anger boiled over. "No one would miss him, and you'd be justified. He was trying to rape you, so you killed him, just like those recruits. You're far better with a sword, just do it."
She managed a tight smile for her lover. She was letting her temper do the talking and she wasn't thinking clearly. "Will the King see it that way?" No matter how justified she was, killing the Prince would mean an execution, likely after weeks of torture.
"We could run. We could go together, tonight," Daenerys proposed, grasping onto her next idea. "We could run. I could get gold and we could be miles away before anyone knew we were gone."
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine the world Daenerys was describing. It was as close to perfection as Arya's inadequate mind could get. To have Daenerys and be free of the Red Keep and everyone in it, was an ideal situation for her, but it would alter Daenerys's life dramatically. Could she do that? Was it fair to even ask? "Last time a Stark and a Targaryen ran away together it started a war," Arya reminded her. She was trying to lighten the mood, but her attempt fell flat. Daenerys wasn't amused.
"Why are you finding reasons to go against all my ideas?" she asked, aiming her fury at Arya now.
"I'm just being realistic," she clarified. "If I kill a Prince, I'll be killed, if they think I kidnapped you, they'll hunt us no matter where we go."
"Do you want to die!?" It was an accusation more than a question.
She didn't. There had been a time in her life when she didn't fear death, when she would've welcomed it, but things were different here, thanks largely to Daenerys. "I want to be my father's daughter, to live like he taught me, with honor, and if that means meeting my death tonight bravely, then so be it."
Daenerys didn't want to hear it. She was shaking her head before Arya had finished speaking, the motions so violent her hair was bouncing back and forth. "No!" she rebelled. It was a lone word, but it was packed with all her various authorities and titles, as a Princess, a member of House Targaryen, a Dragon and the person Arya was committed to. "You're my guard, do you serve me?"
Arya didn't answer, aware if she did, it would be used against her.
Daenerys didn't have patience for silence. "Do you?" she pressed.
"Yes," Arya admitted.
"Good then I order you to stay here. Keep the door closed, that sword in its scabbard and don't go within five feet of that window."
She was immediately wary. The only reason Daenerys would be making such a decree was if she intended to leave and none of the places she might choose to go in her current state were wise in Arya's opinion. "While I'm not jumping out the window, where will you be?"
Again, Daenerys didn't find her funny. "I'm going to have a talk with my brother."
She didn't know which brother Daenerys planned to seek out, but neither filled Arya with much optimism. "Daenerys, I told you, it's not your…"
"I heard every word you had to say," she promised, stopping Arya before she could repeat herself. "I heard you, but you aren't the only one who has to make choices and live with them. Tonight isn't one of your moments, it's one of mine."
"That isn't what…"
"I choose," Daenerys began talking over her, "to not allow another member of my family to hurt you. I choose to stand up for you as you've done for me so many times. I know how you feel, but I can't let you leave me, and I can't let Viserys have you, so I'm going to do something about it."
She wanted to object, to reiterate that it wasn't Daenerys's place, that the decision was hers, but the argument was blocked by a lump in her throat. The momentary quiet was the only approval Daenerys needed. "Don't leave this room," she instructed. "I'll come and get you when it's safe."
Arya was conflicted. What could she do? Her mind raced as she thought about her time spent serving Daenerys. It began as fulfilling her oath to House Martell by following Doran's order when he sent her with Aerys, but it wasn't that anymore. It was her choice to serve Daenerys now. The woman she was sworn to, had given her strict orders. She could disregard them, she could jump as soon as Daenerys left the room, but in addition to being the noble Arya served, Daenerys also happened to be the woman Arya was madly in love with. Her final act couldn't be defying Daenerys, it just couldn't be. Her loyalty to Daenerys aside, letting her face either one of her brothers alone felt wrong. "At least let me come with you."
When she looked back, she was smiling, despite her obvious anger. "I love you Arya Stark, and I want you beside me, but this is a conversation between dragons and it's long overdue."
R-C
Leaving Arya, all Daenerys wanted to do was find Viserys and rip his throat out. Who did he think he was? Forcing Arya into his bed against her will and for what, because she stopped him from beating a defenseless and terrified woman?
She'd had cause to be angry a lot in her life and more so recently, but she struggled to recall another time it affected every aspect of her being so completely. Her vision was blurred though she couldn't say if it was clouded by tears or rage. Her hands were balled into fists and she swung her arms with every step, silently hoping she'd make contact with something and release some of the aggression built up inside her. Her legs felt heavier than usual with every step seeming more like a stomp. Her ears weren't working properly. When she passed a couple of people talking in the hall, she could see their lips moving but the only words she heard was Arya's haunting plot to kill herself so she could die on her own terms. Her mouth was dry, her throat scratchy and she kept her teeth clamped tightly to ensure she didn't release the scream sitting on the tip of her tongue. The whole situation felt like shackles on her chest, restraining and constricting her heart. Arya, the woman she loved was being hurt and once again it was a member of Daenerys's own family behind her pain. She meant what she said, she simply refused to let it happen. She would deal with Viserys and put an end to his vendetta against Arya, but first there were preparations she had to make.
Missandei was waiting when she arrived at her bedchamber. She'd been sitting but popped up onto her feet when she saw Daenerys enter. Her smile didn't stay in place for long once she realized Daenerys came alone. "Where is Arya?"
She thought about the woman in question and had to fight to regain control of her emotions. Crying wouldn't help Arya now and time was of the essence. "She's at the top of the castle's highest tower. She's waiting for me there."
"Why aren't you with her?"
It would've felt nice to unload some of her frustrations on Missandei. Daenerys knew the handmaiden was loyal and a great listener, but this time she couldn't tell her what was wrong. She didn't want to embarrass Arya and telling Missandei what Viserys had planned would take more time than she was willing to spend. No, she needed to stay the course. Do what needed to be done and then move on to the next thing. "I need a favor," she said holding out an arm to the chair Missandei vacated, gesturing for her to sit.
She sat and waited for Daenerys to do the same, but she couldn't. She was too tense to stop moving. She began pacing the length of the room. "What's wrong?" Missandei asked, accurately sensing that something wasn't right. "Oberyn told me you found Arya."
"I did, she's fine, but I need to ask a favor of you before I go back to her." She felt guilty for intentionally leaving out her visit to Viserys, but she couldn't tell Missandei for the same reason she didn't allow Arya to accompany her, this was her fight and if it went bad, she didn't want anyone she loved to be involved. This way if called before the Prince, or the King and asked, neither Arya nor Missandei would need to lie when they said they had no knowledge of what Daenerys had done.
"I'll do anything for you and Arya," Missandei swore, "you know that."
She tried to smile but it felt strange on her face. "I need you to stay here, if anyone asks, you're preparing me a bath and you are expecting me back soon."
"And will you be back?"
"Yes," she said, though she wasn't entirely sure. As she was speaking, she realized her friends would need more than just a story if things went badly with her brother. It wouldn't matter to Viserys if Missandei and Arya were innocent, he'd hurt them anyway. She amended the plot. "If I'm not back in an hour," she allowed, taking a minute to think. "I need you to go up to the tower and get Arya. Take the gold from the desk, take as much of my jewelry as you can carry and leave. Take Grey Worm and the Unsullied with you and just go. Go as far and as fast as you can."
"What's happening? You're scaring me."
She bit the inside of her cheek as she worried about how much or how little she should reveal. "Viserys is angry," Daenerys summarized, knowing Missandei would understand just how volatile the entitled Prince could be. "He's been harboring a grudge against Arya since Dorne."
"Is she alright?"
"She is," Daenerys confirmed, "and I'm going to do everything in my power to fix it, no matter what it takes, but if I fail, I don't want you or her to be here."
"We can't leave you," Missandei resisted. "Arya would never and the Unsullied are required to stay."
"She has to," the royal implored, "you have to make sure that she does, please Missandei, promise me." Daenerys foolishly had forgotten the Unsullied were slaves bound to her father. "Tell Grey Worm the order comes from me, and that I have my father's permission." It wasn't a perfect solution but by the time the soldiers learned the truth, they'd be far enough away to decide for themselves if they wanted to return. It wasn't much, but it was the best she could do.
She was sure the handmaiden could see how important this was to her. "You don't though, do you?"
Daenerys answered with a look. "Please, promise me you'll get the people I care about out of here."
"I promise to try," she qualified, and Daenerys knew that was all she could ask. "Arya is as stubborn as you are, so don't be surprised if she's still at the top of that tower tomorrow morning."
"Tell her that I'll follow as soon as I'm able," Daenerys decided hastily.
She was speaking without really thinking through the consequences of her statements and Missandei noticed. "Will you?"
She didn't need to think about it. "Yes, ride toward the Stormlands. Hopefully I'll catch up before you reach Storm's End."
"Lady Musgood?"
Daenerys shrugged. She hadn't chosen it specifically because of Ashara, but it was as good a place as any. "You already know the way."
"You're worrying me," Missandei confessed when there was a lull in the conversation.
She stopped pacing. "I don't mean to. I just want you to be prepared. Hopefully, I'll be back in a few minutes and all of this will be behind us."
Always practical Missandei put her on the spot. "And if you're not?"
"Then you do as I ask, but before you leave take Arya to Aemon's room and make sure she tells him who she really is, who he really is."
Missandei instantly understood the weight of what Daenerys was suggesting. "Are you sure that's wise?"
Truthfully, she was acting on instinct, making it up as she went, basing her rulings on what she felt in her heart was best. "He deserves to know, and if we're leaving, we won't be able to come back later."
"I'll tell Arya that's what you want, if you don't come back."
"One hour," she emphasized. "Don't delay." While she reminded her of the deadline Daenerys went to the closet and stuck her head in. She'd need one more thing if she was going to pull off the scheme she devised.
"What are you looking for?" Missandei got out of her seat and came to help, but it was unnecessary, she had what she wanted by the time her friend reached her. "Rope?" Missandei verified as she coiled it around her hand and then shoved it down the front of her dress.
Guessing they were near the end of their discussion Missandei stood beside her and opened her arms. Their embrace was short but intense. "I don't know what you're planning but it's obviously dangerous, so please be careful."
She kissed her friend's cheek. "Thank you Missandei, for everything. There is no one else I can ask, and no one else I would dare trust."
When she stepped back Missandei pinned her with a hard stare. "I will do as you wish, but you best hurry, because I don't want to have to tell Arya your plan involves her leaving King's Landing without you."
"Missandei, I have to do this. It's past time someone stood up for Arya Stark and I can't do nothing, not this time."
There was one more hug before they said goodbye. Daenerys truly hoped this wasn't the last time she'd see her. Still, she took comfort from the knowledge that if she failed, Missandei, Arya and the Unsullied would be beyond Viserys's reach. Only Aemon would remain, and she knew Rhaegar would take care of him.
Missandei didn't wait until Daenerys was gone to beginning packing up the things she'd need if she was required to disappear. Any relief, any peace she felt conversing with her friend quickly evaporated when she was back in the hall. By the time she reached the door to Viserys's room, she was once again brimming with disgust, anger and hate. Oddly though, she was glad she was seconds away from coming face to face with the man who inspired all of those feelings.
She knocked hard and fast. While she waited, she put into practice years of concealing her emotions. She buried everything deep under a mask of indifference. It felt wrong to hide her anger, but it was necessary. She needed Viserys to relax. She wouldn't be able to yell or scream, she had to behave strategically. He'd know how she actually felt before she was finished, but until that time came, it needed to be her secret.
When he answered the door Viserys already had his shirt off and looked fresh from a bath, his hair still wet. As a young girl she learned to comprehend her brother's expressions, it was a necessary skill to ensure self-preservation. If he was angry, she knew to avoid him. That's how she was able to read the nearly imperceptible flicker of surprise before he hid it behind an arrogant smirk. "Hello Sister, it's lovely to see you but I'm afraid I'm expecting someone else. Perhaps you could come back another time."
Barely able to contain his glee as he taunted her, Daenerys had to remind herself of the plan she'd created, so she didn't ruin everything. "Frightening the help Viserys," she chastised with a shake of her head. "What does tormenting a Dornish bastard get you?" It sickened her to describe Arya as 'the help' but she couldn't show weakness and that is how Viserys would view her affection. He couldn't understand the love Daenerys had for Arya, because Viserys had never loved anyone. If he cared about anyone at all, she would be knocking on their door instead of his.
"It brought you here," he noted.
She realized too late that maybe she was giving him exactly what he wanted. Did that possibility require her to adjust her plan? No, what Viserys wanted didn't matter. Keeping Arya safe did. "Was that the point?"
"The point Sister is that you interfered where you didn't belong. Father was going to call off my wedding to that Dornish cunt and then you had to go and invite some bastard to the capital. I spent months there, because of you!" He was screaming by the end but people in the Red Keep were used to Viserys's rage. If anyone did hear, they wouldn't think anything of it, there was nothing noteworthy about Aerys's middle child behaving poorly.
She felt sympathy for Eliza but pushed it aside. She kept her focus on Arya, where it needed to be. In the same vein, she avoided any discussion about how ridiculous it was to believe their father would have called off the wedding they travelled thousands of miles to formalize. If Viserys wanted to believe Daenerys was to blame, he could. She didn't care. What he couldn't do however was take his anger out on Arya. "I didn't know what would happen, I was just trying to keep her alive."
"Why do you care about some bastard? Father already gave you one friend, why take another?" Whether he was mentioning Missandei and the way she came to King's Landing intentionally to upset her, or if he really believed she was only entitled to a single friend, Daenerys didn't know. Understanding Viserys's mind was nearly as impossible as making sense of Aerys's. She wouldn't waste energy on it. "She'll be going home in a few days anyway. it's all that annoying Oberyn could talk about on the way here."
She shrugged as if she didn't know the answer. The truth was she could talk for weeks about the reasons she cared about Arya, but Viserys was worthy of none of them. "She intrigued me, I'd never seen a female soldier before."
Viserys didn't let the moment pass without reminding her of what he had arranged for Arya. "So, you can understand why I want her in my bed, then?" His devious smirk made it clear that he was trying to anger her, rather than persuade her. Little did he know he didn't need to try so hard. She was already murderous. Soon he'd have all the anger he could handle. Soon.
She clamped her mouth closed and swallowed hard as she summoned the resolve to keep going. She'd be required to play a part and to be convincing enough to lull Viserys into lowering his guard and allowing her close. Luckily, she knew just the right way to entice him.
As soon as Viserys was old enough to understand the concept of marriage, he made it known to anyone who would listen that he wished Daenerys to be his sister-wife as was the Targaryen custom. She had little interest in the practice, especially with Viserys, but he became obsessed, bringing it up to their father frequently enough that as they aged Daenerys worried her future would involve being married to her malicious brother. Selfishly she felt nothing but relief when Aerys made it known that Viserys would be bonded to Eliza. Likewise, one of the benefits of her arrangement with Loras Tyrell was that once she was wed to him, she'd be unavailable to Viserys. Everything hinged on Viserys still holding out hope that she'd agree to sire a full-blooded Targaryen child with him. He believed if that happened the King would reward him by placing him on the throne ahead of Rhaegar. "Is Arya the one you really want?"
All too aware of her feelings on the subject, Viserys assumed her motives. "You'd do that for her?"
She swallowed down her disgust and forced a smile. "This isn't about her," she lied, "this is about us. You're right, I feel badly about how things happened in Dorne and I want to make it up to you."
It didn't take long for a wide grin to stretch his face. When she saw it, she knew she had him. A normal person would've asked more questions or been suspicious about the reason for Daenerys's abrupt change of heart, but not Viserys. He was so used to getting what he wanted, and so oblivious to other people's feelings that he accepted her sudden, inexplicable change in direction almost immediately. Her motivations didn't concern him because Daenerys herself didn't concern him, at least not past what he wanted her for. Offering him a thing he desired for most of his life was too appealing to refuse. "I don't know," he whined, "you'd need to do a lot to earn my forgiveness."
It was almost time, and Daenerys was counting the seconds until she could peel the fake smile from her face and express herself honestly. Just a little longer. "I know," she said, "you won't be disappointed."
When he reached for her breasts, she resisted the urge to knock his hand away and stepped back instead. "Let me lock the door, we don't want to be interrupted." She didn't wait for his approval before going ahead. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved and it made her sick, but it would all be worth it. She repeated, 'Doing this for Arya,' in her mind. What she had to endure was distasteful but an improvement over the other potential outcomes. If her choices were being here, letting Arya take her place, or Arya dead, she'd suffer the indignity every time.
Before she turned to face him again, she glanced to the right, where she knew the tub was. She could see the path he took to get there and the order in which he stripped off his clothes. He left them on the floor, in a line, to be picked up by a servant later. It wasn't surprising, he felt cleaning up after himself was beneath him. Near the clothes, resting on a small, circular table was an unlit candle and his sword. The golden pommel had jewels attached. Although he wore it everywhere, he rarely used it. Unlike Arya or Aemon who trained with their weapons daily, Viserys's was almost entirely to display his wealth and importance. She breathed a sigh of relief. This would be easier, if he didn't have access to a blade.
"Are you coming Sister?" he asked impatiently.
'For Arya' she reminded herself before she peeked back over her shoulder at a man who repulsed her. "Absolutely. You should probably sit," she encouraged nodding toward the chair by the desk, "this isn't going to be quick." In addition to moving him further away from his sword, this request also made him less threatening and hopefully easier to control. While her back was turned and her actions private, she retrieved the rope she collected. It was already tightly wound, and she did her best to conceal it in her fist. Once she was confident it wouldn't be immediately visible, she reached up and pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders. Being naked in front of Viserys was difficult enough, but then she heard him moan in appreciation of the view she'd given him. "Leave it," she said, thinking she was delaying to pick up the discarded silk. Eager to get this over with, she obliged him. Her final act before turning to face her brother fully exposed was to unstrap the knife she'd been wearing under her dress. It was Grey Worm's gift to honor her nameday, and when she accepted it, she never could have imagined she would be using it for something like this. She wanted to take the knife and run straight at Viserys, but she needed to be smarter than that. A test of strength was one she'd lose. Even unarmed she couldn't guarantee she'd be able to subdue him, so she had to leave the knife behind. She'd been wearing it on her leg since their encounter with the bandits. As it fell away, landing on the dress, Viserys noticed. "What's that?"
She had the lie ready. "A secret place to store my purse," she told him. "I was travelling, and we heard rumors of bandits on the roads, so we hid the gold."
By the time she neared the end of her explanation she could plainly see he'd already lost interest. He didn't really care, he just wanted what he wanted. When she turned, Viserys was too busy admiring her naked body to notice that her right hand was tucked behind her back, similarly he didn't think to question what she might be holding. "Come here," he instructed, "I want to know how sorry you are."
Being close to him was the last thing she wanted, but it was the only way. She'd need to be close to make her point and that unfortunately meant she'd need to be within an arm's reach of her perverted brother. "As you wish."
He was leaning forward as she approached, looking eager. She worried he might leap out of the chair. She couldn't let that happen. "Close your eyes," she said. She heard disgust in her tone but hoped Viserys mistook it for fear. Sadly, she suspected her being terrified would only excite him more. He didn't comply so she pushed further. "Please, I have a surprise for you."
For most of the five steps it took to get from where she dropped her dress to where he was sitting, he stared openly at her. She frantically worked to think of another strategy to tempt him, but it was needless. When she was nearly to his chair, he closed his eyes, but made his wishes known by patting the bulge on the front of his pants. She needed to have him trapped and unfortunately straddling his lap was the most efficient way she could think of accomplishing that. If she could get him lying down, she'd welcome it, but she dreaded to think of what he'd want to do to her before he was willing to move to the bed. Daenerys wasn't about to take such a risk.
She sat in his lap and tried not to vomit. He leaned toward her, clearly wanting a kiss but she used her free hand against his bare chest to push him back into the chair. Shifting her weight closer to his hips, she effectively pinned him in place. She kissed his cheek softly and dragged her lips across to his ear. "Put your hands behind the chair," she whispered.
When he opened his eyes and looked at her in confusion, she made known what she intended to do. She held up the rope and let it unwind from its coil. "It's so much better this way," she exaggerated, praying she was believable. "This is my favorite part."
Unlike at the door, this time Viserys's surprise stayed visible. His eyes were alight with passion and she could see he was intrigued. He'd made no secret of the fact that he wanted her for a long time. Now he was finally getting her. She wondered if he was wary of the rope, of how much mobility he'd be giving up, or if he was too blinded by lust to consider such things. He hadn't agreed yet, and none of this worked until he did, so she sweetened the deal. "I'll let you do the same to me," she said against his ear, "after."
Watching Viserys put his hands behind the chair to comply was thrilling. It was working and soon the need for the ruse would be over. She could get dressed and stop pretending she wanted him. Then he'd see the Dragon she was born to be. "I'm going to tie you to the bed," he warned.
"I certainly hope so," she retorted, before she left his lap. "I'll be right back," she added to keep him distracted.
She felt better, safer once she had his wrists bound together, but she wasn't taking any chances. Using all her strength she pulled to tighten the binds. Predicably, Viserys cried like a baby. "Be carful!" he demanded.
"Sorry," she said, "I just wanted to make sure I did it right. I want this to be perfect."
"It's too tight," he complained as he tried to move his fingers and realized just how restricted he was. Blood flow to his hands would be minimal.
"You'll love it, just one more minute," she vowed as she lied one last time. She tied not one, not two but three different knots into the rope, working to make them as intricate and inaccessible as possible. She stepped back to assess her handiwork. "Can you move?"
"No."
"Go on," she encouraged, "try."
He did. The chair thrashed slightly but the rope held. The muscles in his arms flexed while his hands remained where they were. He was trapped and the time for games was over. "I can't. Now get back here!"
She ignored him, returning to her dress and putting it on. Viserys saw what was happening and likely realized quite quickly he'd been had, but he asked anyway. "What are you doing? Get over here! Untie me, damn it!"
With the dress covering her again she felt more like herself. Viserys was never supposed to see her like that. The only person she wanted to be naked with was contemplating suicide at the top of a tower because of her brother and now he was going to answer for that. She got the knife last, picking it up and turning it over in her hand. She carried it in front of her, wanting Viserys to see it.
He was tugging against the rope violently and screaming for her to release him, but she just kept her slow, steady pace, her and her knife.
"I'm not the same girl I was when we went to Sunspear Viserys. That girl, that sister, never would have tied you up like this and she wouldn't be contemplating killing you now, but I'm different."
Naturally Viserys's first instinct was to rely on harsh orders even when he was in no position to enforce them. "I am a Targaryen Prince! I command you let me go."
No longer needing Viserys relaxed, she let the mask fall and showed him everything, the disgust, the hate, the rage. "You aren't the only Dragon in this room," she reminded him coldly.
He spit at her, a glob of saliva landing at her feet, she stepped over it. "You're no Dragon, I'm the Lord of Dragonstone, you're nothing."
She smiled as if she found him amusing, it was an empty expression devoid of any actual warmth. "You aren't Lord of anything yet, and I may be nothing tomorrow, but tonight I'm the person who gets to decide if you live or die."
Never one to tolerate being mocked, he tried again to free his arms. When he failed, he kept his torment verbal. "You think I'm frightened of you. You don't even know which side of that to cut with."
"I tried to tell you I've changed Brother," she said, mimicking his habit of calling her 'Sister.' "When we parted in Dorne maybe you were right, but not anymore."
She knew Viserys didn't fear her. He had no reason to before tonight. He was defiant until she got close enough to cut him and then his eyes widened, and he began pulling on the rope again in a futile attempt to get away. With the chair so close to the desk he couldn't even tip it backwards to gain some distance. He was helpless. With no remorse she put the steel down against the outside of Viserys's right shoulder. The cut wasn't deep or long but it served its purpose, it showed that this wasn't going to end the way he thought it would.
"Ahhh!" he cried as the blade bit in. Once it had he looked down, watching the slow, steady trickle of blood run down his arm. "What did you do? Untie me, I need the Maester."
"It's a scratch," she countered dismissively. "The next one won't be."
"Next one?"
"Yes Viserys," answered, speaking slow and clear, as though she couldn't rely on him to keep pace, "the next one. I'm going to cut you as many times as I deem necessary for you and I to come to an understanding."
"What understanding?"
"You're done tormenting me and my friends. Missandei, Aemon, Arya, if you so much as look at any of them in a manner that displeases me, I'll come in here while you're sleeping and cut your throat," she threatened.
He scoffed, spitting at her again. "This is about them? I'll tell you what I'll do, tomorrow I'll go to Father and I'll tell him about the traitors in his castle, he'll burn all of you."
Such a predicable response. "You're going to tell Father?" He answered with a snarl. "Tell him what, that sweet little Daenerys tricked you and threatened you? You want the whole court to know I tied you up and made you cry?"
"I'm not crying!" he shouted.
"And I'm not done yet!" she fired back. To emphasize her point she raised her knife and gave him a matching wound on the other shoulder. "Oops, I'm sorry, I rudely interrupted you, you were saying something about how you were going to murder my friends, go on, I'm listening now."
He did. "I'll fuck that pretty Missandei before I tell Father she's a traitor. I've been waiting to get my hands on…"
Daenerys wasn't going to stand for this. Also, she had a deadline. She needed this resolved before Missandei and Arya fled, if possible. While they were speaking, he was desperately trying to free his hands. All that movement stopped when she put the knife to his neck, pressing hard enough that an unruly twitch could result in bloodshed. "If you go within a hundred feet of Missandei, I'll kill you in your sleep," she promised wickedly. It was definitely unhealthy, but she was relishing being in the dominant position for once. This time, it wasn't her who was scared. He was entirely at her mercy.
"D…Don't… do it," he whimpered. It was a thrill to realize he actually thought she was preparing to kill him.
Although her brother didn't know it, she wasn't as unfamiliar with murder as he thought. She'd ordered Rolf's death and his crimes were minor when compared to the ones Viserys was guilty of. She considered ending his life and was sorely tempted. The thing that held her darkest impulses at bay wasn't mercy or affection for a sibling, it had nothing to do with him at all. Her hesitation was caused by the King's erratic behavior. If Viserys was found dead tomorrow, every guard in the castle would be tasked with finding the killer. Whether they located evidence or not, someone would be held accountable. Aerys's bloodlust would demand it. Someone would need to die to satisfy his thirst for revenge, and while she was confident no one would think of suspecting her, she was less certain that she could shield the people she loved. It may be unlikely that Arya, Missandei or Aemon would be accused, but that was a risk the Princess wasn't willing to take. She couldn't kill Viserys now, not with Aerys as King, he was too unpredictable.
Her mind raced. She needed to think of something and fast. Her threat to kill Viserys in his sleep was weak, even though she was absolutely willing to do it. The second he was untied he could go to their father and name Daenerys and her friends traitors. She needed some way to counter anything he might say, but what? Unlike her he didn't have any vulnerable spots. There were no people he cared for that she could exploit. He only cared about himself. Unless… A devious grin settled on her face as a new, darker idea formed in her head.
"I won't," she said moving the knife away and admiring the mark it left behind. He'd have trouble explaining that tomorrow. "What will you do for me?"
"I won't hurt them, I'll leave them alone," he proposed. Not only was it way too easy for a man as vindictive as Viserys, it was also pathetic and transparent.
"That's not good enough," she told him as she walked in front of him, turning the knife over in her hands every few steps. "If you want to live to get married, to see Dragonstone and rule there, you need to show me that we have a bargain."
"Untie me and we'll make a deal."
She rolled her eyes. Pointing the knife down she looked suggestively toward the front of his pants. "One quick slice and I could make you useless for your wedding night."
She said it as a way to reinforce her power, to show he wasn't making the rules, but the fear she saw was genuine and it made her think cutting off his dick should have been her opening move. "Don't, don't, just tell me what you want!" he pleaded, sounding nothing like the smug brother she was familiar with.
That was more like it. "Tomorrow morning, you're going to go to Father and request permission to leave for Dragonstone immediately. Tell him you've reviewed our records and there is much more to do than you initially thought. Tell him you're anxious to get started."
"What? Why would I…?" He clearly didn't see the connection.
Daenerys didn't care if he understood. "Be persuasive. If you aren't on a ship bound for the island by midday, I'll tell father about our plot to usurp him," she said, giving voice to her latest strategy to keep Viserys in line.
"You've lost your mind. Killing us won't save your friends! He'll burn them too!"
"All the people I care about have already left the castle," she lied. "You can't hurt them anymore. This has never been about them anyway. This has always been about you and me. We'll settle it, here and now. If you tell Father about this, if you accuse anyone of anything, if you refuse to leave, I'll confess to plotting to steal the throne and claim you were my accomplice."
For a man who always had something to say, Viserys was uncharacteristically silent. "He'd kill you too," he eventually realized.
"Yes," she acknowledged, "he would, but if the only way to keep everyone safe is to die in the flames next to you, I'm prepared to do that. Are you?" She waited before she summarized the rules. "If anything happens to anyone I love, tonight, tomorrow or in ten years, I'll go to Father and tell him we've been plotting against him. I will be killed, but I'll take you with me."
That was it, her grand plan, she was going to sacrifice herself. She told Arya this was her moment to make a big, life-changing decision and this was what she came up with. She'd rather die than let harm come to Arya. If she ever spoke to him again after this, she'd need to thank Viserys for inspiring the idea. He'd used the person she loved against her, and it worked so well that Daenerys decided to try it. Since the person Viserys loved most was Viserys, that was the one she had to endanger.
"Do I have your attention now?" she asked him. "You have a choice to make, probably the most important one of your life. You can go to Dragonstone tomorrow and begin your life as a Lord, or you can die with me in Fire and Blood." She stared him in the eye as she spoke, wanting him to know how serious she was about all this. "How do you want to be remembered, as the Prince the King killed or as Lord of Dragonstone, Commander of thousands of loyal men?"
"Why are you doing this?" he questioned her incredulously. "A slave, a bastard, Aemon, why do you care."
"You wouldn't understand," she assured him honestly. "Do we have a deal? If you're on your way to Dragonstone by midday tomorrow, no one ever needs to learn about this, you'll get everything you want, ahead of schedule."
A practical detail reached Viserys's brain and he presented a feeble obstacle. "The wedding, Father won't let me go to Dragonstone until we're married."
As if she hadn't thought about that. It was one of the first problems she dealt with when crafting her elaborate schemes. "Tell him it's your dream to be married in the castle that you and your wife will one day rule together. Say that you'll get things ready. He'll agree."
Just when she was ready to believe he was coming to terms with his reality, Viserys had to remind her how difficult he could be. "I won't forget this Dany, I'll never forget."
"Neither will I," she vowed with her knife back at his neck, "and I will keep my word, whether it's tomorrow, a year from now or twenty, if anything happens to the people in my life, I'll tell Father we are traitors and he'll burn us both."
Her plan relied heavily on Viserys's heightened sense of self-importance. He was a spoiled, arrogant, petty, bitter man but he saw himself differently. In his mind he was the real power in King's Landing, the true Targaryen, he was important and influential and it was only a matter of time until everyone around him took notice and he was raised to the level he felt deserving of. That ego is how she knew he'd agree to her terms. Unlike her, Viserys cared about his legacy, he obsessed over what historians would one day write about him. He wanted it said that he shaped the world and ruled the Realms of Men but if Daenerys followed through on her threat, he'd die the traitorous Prince undeserving of any recognition or respect.
"Best be careful Sister," he cautioned, "that guard can't protect you all the time."
"What was that?" she mocked. "It sounded like you were threatening me, but you wouldn't do that, not after we just came to an agreement, would you?" To make her point, she placed her knife against the upper portion of his chest, on the right side, above the nipple. Unlike the earlier cuts which were scratches, she carved a wide gash into his flesh that would definitely need a Maester. "Good luck explaining that," she quipped as he bled all over himself.
"You bitch," he groaned, hissing and panting through the pain.
"Do we understand each other, or should I keep going?" She moved the bloody knife over to the uninjured half of his chest. "A matching set perhaps?"
"Don't!" he begged with panic written all over his face.
As soon as she lowered the knife, he was braver. "You won't get away with this."
"I already have," she pointed out. "Either we both live or we both die, but it's over regardless.
"You're mad!"
"Probably," she admitted, "but I'm also deadly serious. So, the choice is yours, do you want to live to rule Dragonstone or not?"
He averted his eyes, leading Daenerys to suspect her message had finally gotten through. He was no longer defiantly staring her down, barking threats. He was conceding defeat and incapable of looking at her when he did it. "Fine, I'll do what you want. Untie me."
She wasn't that stupid. If she set Viserys loose, he'd attack her before she could reach the door, No, she had a plan for this too. She went to the table where there was a tray of fruits, cheeses and crackers. There was also a knife. It wasn't particularly sharp, but there were limits to her generosity. She picked it up and carried it over to the chair. She stood beside Viserys and set the knife in his palm. "You can cut yourself free once I'm gone."
"That'll take forever," he whined.
"It'll give you time to think about what your going to do next. For both our sakes, I hope you make the right decision."
"Don't leave me like this!" he yelled once he knew that was precisely what she intended to do. She returned her knife to the inside of her leg, held in place by a cloth strap Arya gave her. She smiled sincerely when she thought of her lover. Viserys would be spending his night with Grand Maester Pycelle, he wouldn't have time to entertain Arya or anyone else.
She left him with a parting blow, before she slipped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. "Midday tomorrow, don't forget." She lingered just long enough to make certain his screams couldn't be heard and then she hurried away. She wanted to rush straight to Arya, to Missandei and tell them all was well, but she wasn't done yet.
It occurred to her when she was talking to Viserys. For all her threats, she couldn't be certain he'd abide by her terms and leave the capital. Although her willingness to die seemed to frighten him, it was possible that he'd accuse Arya of a crime out of spite. If that happened, Daenerys wanted to make sure she wasn't around to respond to the charges.
Daenerys would send Arya into the city with Oberyn. Since she'd need a guard, she'd go to Aemon. He'd happily agree. If Viserys fled to Dragonstone as she hoped, she would welcome Arya home in the afternoon. If he didn't, Daenerys wanted her far from everyone's sight and mind.
There was a knot in her stomach that wouldn't untie until tomorrow when she knew it worked. In the meantime, she eased her anxiety by reminding herself the only person sleeping next to Arya was her.
R-C
The seconds felt longer as she waited for Daenerys to return. She had nothing to do, and plenty of time to think, too much in fact. She thought about love. The Gods had a twisted sense of humor. Long before Aerys summoned them, Arya decided love wasn't worth the effort. She'd let Sansa and her friends worry about which Prince they'd marry, or which castle they'd live in. She devoted herself to other pursuits.
It wasn't that she didn't believe love existed, she had the purest example she'd ever witnessed living under her roof, she saw examples of it every day. Without wanting it for herself, she still managed to envy the relationship between her mother and father, subconsciously at first and later more overtly. When she thought of love and imagined what it was like, it was the one between Ned and Catelyn Stark she conjured up in her mind. Other people, their relationships, what pulled them together, what pushed them apart none of that made sense, but her mother and father, them Arya understood.
It wasn't just when he said the words, or when she repeated them back. If they never said, 'I love you', she would still know how they felt. There were the big, important events, like the necklace he gave her to celebrate their anniversary, or the portrait she had commissioned of his parents and siblings, but there were other smaller, innocent expressions too, the arm he'd lay across her shoulders as they watched the children play in the yard below. All those walks to the Weirwood tree when her mother didn't believe there were Gods there. Love was real, she'd seen it, she saw the benefits of having a partner to share the joys and the struggles with, but not once in all those years did she ever yearn to connect her life to someone else's. Love was fine, for other people, just not for her.
All too clearly, she could see the indulgent smile her mother would aim at her when she said, 'I told you so'. Arya never liked being wrong, but she'd gladly endure it if it meant Catelyn could be there to give her advice. What was she supposed to do? Daenerys wasn't the nice man Arya's mother promised her she'd find, but their love was terrifying, and the soldier was out of her depth. Her parents might not approve of her loving a Targaryen, but she liked to think they'd be happy for her. She was alone for a long time and now she wasn't. Even if she picked a Dragon, that had to be better, right?
When the door finally opened to reveal Daenerys, Arya was no closer to a conclusion than when she started. She felt no less unsteady in her body, no more certain of what she was doing. Love was still unknowable to her, and the only two people she could trust to teach her were gone.
Since Arya's shortcomings weren't going anywhere, she could obsess over them later. While she'd been alone, she undressed, out of her armor, and her weapons. She left them on the floor and rushed to Daenerys, getting to her before she could close the door behind her. She took the Princess's face in her hands and assessed her for injuries. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," Daenerys swore. "I'm fine. Everything is going to be fine." With a mischievous gleam in her eye Daenerys admired Arya's body. "Had I known this was what was waiting for me, I would have gotten here sooner."
"What happened?" She needed to know. Did she need to leave, did they? "Where's Viserys?"
"My brother and I came to an understanding," Daenerys said vaguely. "He won't be bothering you again."
Instead of feeling better, Arya was more frightened now. How had she changed his mind and how would he retaliate in the future? "What did you do?"
She sighed, sounding exhausted all the sudden. "I don't want to talk about him. Viserys doesn't matter."
How could she say that? "Daenerys…"
"I will explain everything tomorrow afternoon," she decided with finality. "I will answer all your questions, I'll tell you anything you want to know, but not tonight."
Without permission her eyes drifted to the Valyrian steel sword. Would she be needing that to keep them both alive? She didn't know Viserys well but couldn't think of a circumstance where Daenerys could compel him to leave them alone. She wanted to push for details but was struck by how weary Daenerys seemed. It had been a long day before Viserys involved himself in it, and she couldn't fault her lover for being tired. "Tomorrow then," she agreed. She doubted she'd get much sleep, but if Daenerys wanted to wait, so be it. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked, joining their hands and lacing their fingers together.
"Yes, give me a kiss and then go and take a long, hot bath."
The first part was easy. She didn't even consider refusing. She pulled the Princess a little deeper into the room and connected their mouths. "What will you be doing?"
Before she responded Daenerys pecked at Arya's lips. "I need to see a couple more people, and then I'll be joining you."
"Is it safe? Your brother…"
"My brother isn't going to be a problem anymore." There was a pause before she reminded Arya of their pact. "Tomorrow, remember?"
She paid careful attention, looking for any subtle clues that Daenerys was scared or anxious, but she seemed perfectly at ease. Considering where she'd been and what she'd been doing, it was highly improbable.
"Heat up the water, pour the wine and I'll meet you when I'm done." She intended to doublecheck that Daenerys was sure, but she got a pre-emptive strike. "I'm sure. The sooner I go, the sooner I'll get back to you."
One passionate kiss later, Daenerys was gone again, back down the winding staircase. Arya busied herself replacing her armor.
R-C
Fresh from her visits to Missandei and Aemon, she now stood outside Oberyn's door. This was her last stop before she could make good on her word and return to Arya. She wondered if Viserys had made his way through the rope yet, or if he was still bound to the chair. She felt nervous as she knocked. It was late, too late for a polite Princess to show up uninvited, but she trusted Oberyn would understand.
"Daenerys," he said when he saw her. "What a pleasant surprise. How are you? How is Arya?"
She stepped inside and shook her head when he gestured toward the cart of drinks. "Before we left Sunspear you asked me to protect Arya, to do everything in my power to keep her safe."
"I remember," he confirmed. "Sit please. Tell me what troubles you."
"My brother Viserys, he is upset with Arya. She protected me from him in Dorne and he's angry and intends to punish her."
"Punish her how?" Although he'd just lowered into a seat he was back on his feet in an instant. "I won't allow this to happen."
Daenerys stood too, moving to block his exit. "I stopped it, Arya is safe and she's in no danger."
"What did you do?" he asked, his concern for her striking. They were practically strangers, but she could see Oberyn actually cared about her welfare and was worried she put herself in harm's way.
"I kept my promise. I did what was necessary. Viserys will be leaving for Dragonstone in the morning. By midday he'll be gone from here and he'll no longer be a threat to Arya or anyone else."
"Except Eliza," Oberyn added.
Her cheeks burned in shame. "I'll invite Eliza to remain with me," she suggested in a rush. "I'll tell my father that I'll help her plan the wedding, it won't help much but…"
"You don't need to do this," he said, "you have enough problems of your own."
It was true that Eliza wasn't her primary focus, but it didn't mean she was incapable of doing her part. She'd committed to doing the right thing, for Arya, for Missandei, for the Unsullied, why couldn't she add Eliza Martell to that list. "It's fine, I'll delay her going to Dragonstone as long as I can."
"I'd be grateful if you could. I don't want to leave her, but Ellaria and the girls are waiting for me."
"I'm sure they miss you as much as you miss them," she guessed, happily remembering the interactions she'd seen between the family.
"Will you visit us again?" he asked unexpectedly.
"I'd love to," she admitted freely, "and I know Arya would as well."
"She told me of Highgarden, you did the one thing I never could, you gave her back her sister."
She hadn't come to talk about this, but now that they were, the words tumbled out. "They never should have been separated in the first place, what happened to them…" she trailed off, not knowing how to describe the brutality.
"She told you who she is, you need to be careful who you share that secret with," he warned.
"I know and I'd never betray her, she means everything to me."
He smiled kindly, a gesture that eased some of her tension. "She feels the same about you, as I'm sure you know. She wouldn't be staying if she didn't."
Daenerys swallowed hard. She hadn't had the chance to ask Arya if she told Oberyn she was staying, now she knew. "I'm sorry, I know you came all this way to bring her home."
"I came all this way because I missed her," Oberyn specified. "When I first met her, she was so sad, so angry and she had every reason to be. Few people I know could have survived what she did."
"I agree," Daenerys supplied, while waiting anxiously for Oberyn to keep going. Getting a glimpse into how they met was a treat she hadn't anticipated when she sought him out.
"I will miss Arya if she stays here," he confessed, "but I've known her a long time and I've watched her grow along side my own children. I want for her the same things I want for them, to be happy, to be loved, to find purpose." He paused and gave Daenerys one of his charming, easy smiles. "I didn't think she would find any of those things here, but she has, and I'll support her, like I would any of my girls."
"I love her very much," Daenerys proclaimed proudly. She wanted him to know this was serious, that she would take care of Arya's heart.
"Love is as visible as Greyscale if you know what to look for," he opined. "I see it In you, and I see it in her."
She couldn't say why, but she expected more resistance from Oberyn. She wasn't sad to gain his approval, it was just overwhelming.
"But," he said after a stretch of peaceful quiet, "I don't think you came to my room late at night to tell me you love Arya."
"I need to ask a favor of you, I need your help with Arya."
"What do you need?"
"Tomorrow morning, I want you to take her into the city and spend the morning together. Return around midday."
Wise and calculating, Oberyn knew there had to be more to it than that. "And?"
"If when you return, I'm waiting for you at the stables, you'll know Viserys is gone and everything went according to plan."
"If you're not?"
"Turn around and take Arya far away from here."
"Will you tell me why?"
"Viserys and I came to an understanding tonight. He agreed leave the capital and stay away from the people I care about. I don't want Arya in the castle if he changes his mind and goes back on his word."
"Your brother can not be trusted Princess," Oberyn said with confidence.
"I know, but in giving me what I want, he gets what he wants too. I think he'll go to Dragonstone, but if I'm wrong, I need to know Arya is safe."
"You're brave," he remarked. "I saw it in the Water Gardens, I see it now. I'll do as you ask. Arya won't like it."
That was a vast understatement. "She doesn't need to like it, she only needs to do it. I need her to be safe."
"What about you?"
"If Viserys betrays me, my plan is to flee the capital as well. With luck I'll find you and Arya before long." That was a plan, though it was unlikely she'd be permitted to leave, or breathe after Viserys makes accusations against her. She kept those details to herself, however. Oberyn's role was to make sure Arya stayed alive, her fate was far less important.
R-C
Daenerys was on her way to breakfast with Aemon as her guard when the Crown Prince of Westeros limped up to them. "What are you to doing?"
"Breakfast," Aemon answered for her. "Can I fix you a plate?" he offered helpfully.
With a smile for his son, he shook his head, allowing silver curls to fall in front of his eyes. He used his free hand to wipe them aside. "No, I'll be fine, thank you." He had a slow, methodical look around and then asked, "Where is your guard Dany?"
"Aemon is my guard today," she chirped happily, knowing her attitude would infuriate him. If he wanted to ask about Arya, he was going to need to use her name.
"Why is Aemon your guard?"
"Because I asked him."
He sighed, before pinching the bridge of his nose and looking down, a clear sign of his annoyance. "Where is Arya? I heard half the castle was looking for her last night."
"It wasn't half the castle," Daenerys defended, though it wasn't for a lack of trying. "Viserys is still upset that she protected me from him back in Dorne. He was making her uncomfortable, so she went to clear her head, she's fine."
"What did he do?" Rhaegar inquired. "Is she okay?"
It was a probable that a large amount of his concern was because he wanted to remain on Daenerys's good side, she didn't care, she'd take it. "She's fine," she said again, "I talked to Viserys last night and we came to an agreement."
"What kind of an agreement?" Rhaegar asked skeptically.
"I told Arya to spend the day with Oberyn," she said bypassing the question she didn't want to address. "Last I saw they were heading into the city."
"Do you have meetings?"
Was he going to claim she couldn't go to her scheduled appointments without Arya? "Only this morning, this afternoon I was hoping to take Missandei and join up with Arya and Oberyn."
"You can't go alone."
"I'll take some of the Unsullied, if Aemon doesn't want to come."
"I'd love to," he agreed quickly.
Rhaegar knew a lost cause when he saw one. He relented. "Just be careful, both of you."
"We will," they said together.
With a shake of his head Rhaegar chuckled and then the trio became moving again. When they got to their table, Viserys, Tywin and Aerys were already there, along with Cersei, Tyrion and Jaime.
Daenerys paid careful attention to Viserys, waiting to see if he'd reveal his intention.
"Good morning Father," Rhaegar said as Selmy pulled out his chair for him. He sat down carefully, before whispering his thanks to the knight.
"Good morning," Aerys said, between bites. "I'm glad you're here. Your brother wants to leave for Dragonstone right away, to begin preparing it for his rule."
Rhaegar looked around the table at the other faces, to see which were as surprised as him. "I thought we were waiting until after the wedding."
"The wedding is going to be at Dragonstone," the King decreed casually as he stared down at his eggs. "Viserys will go and prepare things and then when he's ready, we will travel for the ceremony."
"Are you sure that's wise Father?" Rhaegar tried.
"I think it's a great idea," Daenerys contributed. "I intended to seek out Eliza today and help her with the planning."
"That's kind of you dear," Aerys said. "Spare no expense, my son is getting married, it must be grand, it must be worthy of the name Targaryen!"
Daenerys didn't know what that name was really worth after everything her family had done, but she agreed with him anyway. Missandei brought her a plate and while she ate, she was careful to keep an eye and an ear on Viserys. He was quiet, keeping to himself, saying very little. He wasn't talking to Aerys or anybody else, leading Daenerys to think her problem, Arya's problem might be gone by midday.
After breakfast she stayed near her father until he began his meetings and then she peeled away to attend her own. She smiled to herself. It was working. Success was exhilarating.
R-C
It was midmorning and Daenerys had just finished what she hoped would be her lone meeting of the day. Again, the Crown would be paying for the burial of a man whose family couldn't afford the fee. Daenerys enjoyed how useful she felt in those particular meetings but her heart broke as she spoke with the families and listened to their tales of hardship.
"Is it always like that?" he asked. More than once as the young mother was speaking, she caught her nephew wiping his eye. She didn't blame him, if anything it showed his goodness that he was able to empathize.
"Sometimes it's worse," Missandei commented as she returned from showing the guests out.
"I'm not going to miss this tomorrow," Aemon muttered under her breath.
She stopped him from walking away. "You did well, thank you for helping me today and allowing Arya the chance to spend the day with Oberyn."
"It's hard to see them as friends," he said. Sensing that he'd need to justify that position, he went on. "After that fight they had in the yard, I can't believe it was all a joke."
Without knowing it, Aemon pressed on a fresh wound. Daenerys was still a little bitter about the needless worry she went through when she thought Arya and Oberyn were really trying to kill one another. Luckily Missandei spared her. "Please don't mention that," she begged shamelessly.
Aemon's carefree laugh died abruptly, and he took a deliberate step toward his aunt. Daenerys followed his eyeline and found Jaime Lannister standing in the doorway. "Sorry to bother you Princess, but the King requests your presence."
She tried to speak but no sound came out. She settled for a nod. Since breakfast she allowed herself to believe Viserys loved himself too much to call her bluff. She wasn't an idiot, she knew her brother would be furious, and he'd want revenge, but she thought she trapped him when she threatened to confess her crimes and name him as her co-conspirator. He'd want to see her burn, but she thought his strong sense of self-preservation would work in her favor. She had miscalculated and now there was nothing left to do but walk bravely to meet her fate.
On the way to the throne room, she prepared what she'd say in her defense and how she'd ensure Viserys was beside her in her fire. She missed Arya, missed being able to look over and see her, to feel her presence nearby even when they weren't touching. Whatever she was walking into, she'd feel better if Arya was with her. That said, she didn't regret sending her away. If this was the end, she didn't want Arya's last memory of her to be her screaming in the flames. She'd prefer if Arya remembered the Daenerys from last night, who shared a bath with her lover before they went to bed and made love until the early morning hours. Those are the memories she'd take with her and she hoped they were the ones Arya clung to also.
She was saddened that she wouldn't get to see a new King lead Westeros. Rhaegar was a good man, not perfect, but he'd try his best and things would improve. In time, people would forget about Aerys and his madness.
The whole court was assembled and in their seats. Not a good sign. Aerys was on his throne. His expression gave no hint of his thinking either way. She swept across the chairs around him. The Lannisters were there, save Jaimie who was leading Daenerys, Varys and Rhaegar. No one looked at her.
"Please take your seat, Daenerys."
"Of course, Father." She went to her chair and passed Viserys's. It was unoccupied, as it had been when he was in Sunspear. He wasn't there? Was he waiting somewhere else, preparing an accusation? It wasn't beyond him to be hiding away waiting for the ideal moment to make a grand pronouncement.
To prepare for what was coming, Daenerys reminded herself why it was necessary to behave as she had. Viserys was forcing Arya to sleep with him. What she did, right or wrong, she did to protect the woman she loved. If that was what led to her death then at least she knew she was dying for a good reason, the best reason.
"Daenerys," the King said, "we called you here because this morning at breakfast you proposed an idea. Did you mean it?"
She thought back. Most of her breakfast was spent watching Viserys for any sign he was going to expose her. "Which idea?"
Tywin spoke for Aerys. "Is it not true you said you'd help Eliza plan her wedding?"
Daenerys wanted to cry. That's why she was here? For the first time she spotted the timid Martell sitting in the front row of the audience. She was dressed in a pale purple dress and had her hair down her back. Daenerys gave her a smile. "Yes, I said that, and yes I would be glad to help my future sister prepare for her special day."
"So be it!" Aerys called down, making it official.
She managed to maintain her composure until her father and his advisors left the room. The instant they were gone though, Daenerys collapsed back into her chair and tried frantically to regather her wits. She really thought she was about die. She forgot where she was briefly, until Rhaegar asked, "Are you alright?" She hadn't known he was still there, or that he was paying attention
"I'm fine, I just don't like it here," she said, pleased she had an easy explanation that wasn't a lie. "Where's Viserys?"
"He left for Dragonstone as soon as he finished eating. I don't know why he's in such a hurry all the sudden, Dragonstone isn't going anywhere."
"I don't know. I'll talk to you later, I need to go and see Eliza."
She got up and approached the woman Viserys would marry. "Pleasure to see you again."
"And you, Princess," she said with a warm smile. "I appreciate you agreeing to help with the wedding, I've been a little overwhelmed lately."
"We should talk," Daenerys said, linking their arms, "but this is not the place for it and none of that Princess nonsense either, call me Daenerys."
With red cheeks Eliza looked down at her feet. Daenerys expertly weaved them through the crowds of people. "Thank you, Daenerys for everything."
"You're welcome," she said as they escaped out into the hall. Aemon and Missandei were right behind her. She made use of the first exit and stepped out into the warm sunlight. "Not quite as warm as Sunspear, but still a nice day," she noted.
"It is quite nice," Eliza agreed. "So, where do we start? There is so much to decide, the dress and the cake and food and the music and…"
Daenerys stopped walking and pulled Eliza to a halt too. "You don't need to worry about any of that right now. Introductions first. Eliza Martell, this is my best friend and handmaiden Missandei of Naath, and this young man is Aemon, Rhaegar's son."
"Pleased to meet you," she said shyly.
Once the introductions were made, she was looking to Daenerys for more guidance. It was strange to be the one people turned to, but in this instance, she knew what was best. "Have you been out into the city much since you arrived."
She kept her head down when she spoke. Daenerys wondered if it was her family or Viserys who conditioned her to do that. "Not much, no."
"A tour then. Prince Oberyn and my guard Arya are due back shortly, let's go meet them and see if we can convince them to turn around."
"Shouldn't we be planning the wedding?"
"We will, but first I need to learn more about you, the kinds of things you like, your favorite colors, your favorite flowers. We can't plan you the perfect wedding until we know who you are."
She gave it some thought. "Oh okay," she allowed, "I suppose that makes sense."
"Good, and I bet you even have some stories about Oberyn too, my friend Arya will definitely want to hear those."
They made their way toward the stables and Daenerys savored the peace of it. The future would come, and it would undoubtedly bring challenges but for the time being she and everyone who mattered to her was safe. She couldn't have said that twelve hours ago. Whatever happened, she'd be okay, because she knew what was most important and she knew how far she was willing to go to defend it.
R-C
Author's Note: Sorry for the delays and for any mistakes. I hope the long chapter helps. I didn't want to leave you with another cliff-hanger, so I extended it until we learned what became of the spoiled Prince.
I know most of you wanted Viserys dead but no matter how angry she was, I didn't think Daenerys would let an innocent person die for her, and if Viserys turned up dead, someone would need to be blamed and executed for the crime. She isn't quite that ruthless (yet), but we still have a way to go.
Next up, Arya will learn what Daenerys did for her.
