Selmy was outside the door when they arrived. His presence was almost enough to cause her to turn back, but she knew she'd postponed this too long already. She had been avoiding her brother since she returned from Highgarden, engaging in only the briefest of trivial conversations with the future King, before making an excuse to leave. At her core, Daenerys was hurt. Rhaegar knew the real reason for her trip to the Reach and he provided no warning, apart from vague, weak attempts to dissuade her from going and mumbled comments about would-be regret. She expected more of Rhaegar which is likely why it bothered her so much. She wouldn't be able to move on until she looked him in the eye and heard how he'd justify his behavior. She had words with Tyrion, Margaery and Olenna when she learned the truth too. They each managed to convince the Princess that they meant no harm and genuinely cared for her. Given that pattern, why was she dreading discussing the subject with Rhaegar? She blamed it on the fact that she was closer to Rhaegar than she was the others. He had protected her all her life and until recently she truly believed he had her best interest at heart. Were her doubts reasonable or was the truth about Lyanna and his past lies tainting everything she thought and felt?
The hardest part of Daenerys's internal conflict was tracing her various emotions to their source. Things with Loras had gone well, so why couldn't she forgive and move on? Did her anger have anything to do with his silence about her potential marriage or did it stem from other, darker places? On one hand Rhaegar was the brother she loved, and on the other, he was the man whose selfishness led to the ruin of Arya's life. She just couldn't separate what he set in motion years ago with Lyanna from who he was today. She tried, the Gods know she tried, but every time Arya whimpered in her sleep, in the throes of a nightmare, every time she tensed in the King's presence, Daenerys was reminded of how unforgiveable some things were.
Her level of contempt for her father's heir and his actions varied with the day. Secretly she worried their relationship would never recover. Her love for Arya was deep enough that it situated anyone who harmed her as Daenerys's enemy, be it Jorah, Viserys, or even Rhaegar. That aside, they did have business. Rhaegar needed to know what Olenna said.
Daenerys had always liked Ser Barristan. He was kind, sincere and didn't speak just to hear himself talk, three qualities she admired. His loyalty to Rhaegar was also endearing. As a girl she dreamed of having a guard as faithful one day. She thought Jorah was as close as she would get to experiencing the bond for herself but now that Arya was in her life, she could openly admit her childish fantasies of the connection failed to come close to the reality. "How are you Ser?" she asked with a smile.
"Princess, you're looking radiant this evening." Although visibly tired, Barristan was pleased to see her.
"You are too kind," she said, before getting to the reason she was there. "Can I go in?"
He hid it well, but her request caught him by surprise. "Of course, I think he'd like that." As he agreed his eyes moved from Daenerys to Arya. "Will you both be going?"
There was no question in her mind. Under no circumstances would she ask Arya to remain outside, just to appease Rhaegar. Before she could say so, Arya countered everything Daenerys felt. "I'll stay out here."
She pinned her lover with a serious stare. All too aware that they couldn't converse openly with an audience, she chose her words carefully. "Are you sure? You don't have to."
"It's alright, me being there will only complicate things."
Whether that was true or not, Daenerys didn't care. She did however notice that Barristan did nothing to correct Arya's assessment. "You can come in," she offered, "if my brother wants to see me, he will have to accept your presence."
She was prepared to fight for this, but Arya seemed to think it wasn't worth the effort. "I know, but then who would keep Ser Barristan company?"
"I could use someone to talk to," Selmy added.
"Fine," Daenerys relented, "I won't be long."
Arya shrugged. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
It was foolish, but Daenerys hoped she was talking about more than just guarding the door. "Please try to keep her out of trouble," she joked as the knight stepped aside to allow her entry.
"I'll do my best."
Once inside, she stayed where she was, stealing a final glimpse of Arya before Barristan closed the door between them. Squaring her shoulders, she turned her focus to her brother. "Rhaegar, are you here?" she called.
"Dany is that you?" he yelled. She found him lying in his bed. The bedside candles were still lit, and it didn't appear that she'd woken him. He closed a thick book and set it off to the side.
"It's me," she confirmed. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were already in bed, I can come back another time."
"Nonsense. I wasn't sleeping, I was reading. I thought I'd be more comfortable lying down," he explained.
"Were you?"
"Not really," he confessed as he worked to sit up.
"Don't get up!" she insisted. "As I said, I can come back tomorrow."
He stopped moving and propped himself up on one arm, so he could extend the other in her direction. His fingers grazed her hand, but she was too far away for him to grab on. "Don't go, please."
She weighed her options. "I'll stay for a few minutes," she decided, "but don't get up. I'll bring a chair over here and we can speak while you rest."
"That's not necessary, it'll just take a minute."
She'd seen him get out of bed more than once and knew it took substantially longer than that. She also knew if the pain was bad enough for him to be in bed so early, the bed was probably exactly where he needed to remain. "Those are my terms. Either we talk as you are, or I'll come back tomorrow?"
Whether it was random, luck or destiny, Rhaegar didn't inherit the worst of the Targaryen traits. Aerys, Viserys, even Daenerys were all incredibly stubborn. Usually Rhaegar could be counted on to assess a problem dispassionately, and make a logical choice not motivated by his baser desires. On almost any subject, Daenerys was inclined to believe Rhaegar knew what was best, but the one topic that didn't fill her with confidence, the one thing that time and again turned Rhaegar into a true Targaryen, was his injury. He hated being viewed as weak, so even if logically he knew lying down was best, he'd still oppose her idea.
He was again working to sit himself up. "Don't be absurd Dany. I'm fine."
She held her ground. "Last chance," she threatened. "Lie back down or I'll talk to you in the morning."
"Since when do you drive such a hard bargain?"
She chuckled, already looking forward to telling Arya about this later. She'd gotten the next King of the Seven Kingdoms to heed her advice. She ignored his question. "Can I help?"
"I just need," he paused and grit his teeth in obvious pain, exhaling and closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. "I just need to get the pillows set up behind me."
She went to the bed. "How should I arrange them?"
"Two pillows under each arm," he instructed.
Her grievances with her brother could wait. Common decency demanded she help him. "That's it?"
"No, the other three will support my back. I'll get myself sitting forward as best I can, you'll just need to insert them behind me, so I have something to lean against for additional support."
She did as he requested, following his direction to the letter. When she was finished, Rhaegar was sitting up, albeit at an awkward angle. She offered to keep making adjustments until they got it right, but he claimed he was comfortable.
"Thank you," he said as he settled in.
Daenerys went to the table and dragged a single chair across the floor to a spot near the bed.
"After everything, I am a little surprised you were willing to help me," he said to get them started.
In only a few words he summarized how rotten and insidious politics in the capital could be. "Helping someone who needs it shouldn't be about agreement or consensus. It was the right thing to do, so I helped you. How I feel about you didn't factor in."
Disappointed, he nodded. "You're right." He had wanted to use Daenerys helping him as a bridge to peace, but it wouldn't be that easy. "I know you're upset with me Dany, you have every right to be, but I want us to move past it."
The way he spoke, sounding so sincere and accommodating, it ate away at her. He was acting like he was the considerate and gracious one for allowing her to be upset.
When she didn't respond, he repeated himself. "It's okay if you're angry, but we're family and we do need to get past this. I'll do whatever it takes. You've been avoiding me since…"
There was no need for him to finish. "I needed time to think."
"Now that you're here, should I assume you're done thinking?"
"What I am," Daenerys told him, "is prepared to focus on the future and not the past."
He smiled warmly. "That's great Dany. I want that too." He leaned back into the pillows she arranged for him. "Our future is limitless."
"Apparently," she quipped sarcastically, "my future is in Highgarden with Loras Tyrell." She waited just long enough for Rhaegar to begin preparing his defense and then she cut him off. "Why wouldn't you tell me why I was really going? Why let me think I was visiting friends?"
"It was Father," Rhaegar began, placing the blame elsewhere.
She didn't let him hide behind their Father. "Father wasn't the one I met with before I left, who said nothing about Loras or marriage. You could have told me. Instead I find out hours before I'm supposed to negotiate with the Tyrells, finally learning that I'm the commodity being bartered over."
"That wasn't how it was supposed…"
She didn't feel obligated to permit him a reply. "Why didn't you tell me!?" she asked bluntly.
"I didn't want to upset you," he said, seeming to think that made it better.
"If that was your intent, you failed miserably."
"It wasn't supposed to be like that, you were never supposed to be involved, a negotiator was going to meet with the Tyrells while you visited with Olenna and Margaery,"
"That didn't happen," she pointed out.
Rhaegar sighed and Daenerys was nearing her wits end. "Just tell me everything, no more half-truths, no more lies."
He studied his sister closely, likely assessing if she could handle it. When he was satisfied, he nodded. "Mace Tyrell has wanted to marry one of his children to one of Father's for years. Involving you is only his most recent scheme, not his first."
That matched with what Margaery said. She urged him to proceed. "Go on."
"We didn't think anything would come of it, but Mace was insistent, so we agreed."
Daenerys erupted rising out of her chair. "I thought I was visiting friends, finally being allowed to travel, getting to see the Reach and all the while you were whoring me out!"
Rhaegar couldn't get up, but he disagreed vehemently with her characterization from where he sat. "No, of course not. We wouldn't do that to you."
"Really, because Viserys didn't get a say in his wedding, is it really so hard to imagine I'd get the same?"
"You were going to Highgarden anyway, so Tywin concocted a plan to send along a negotiator to deal with the offer of marriage."
"That's really interesting and all, but it didn't happen, so why don't you tell me what went wrong?" she spat bitterly.
"Right before you left, Father heard Tyrion speak of the meetings you were holding for him, and he saw a way to include you."
"By negotiating my own marriage."
"Tywin and I both tried to change his mind, but he wouldn't budge. I don't think he remembered that the negotiations were about you, he just decided you were the best person for the job and wouldn't hear otherwise."
Although curious about how it all came to be, she was much less interested in that then she was inquiring about why Rhaegar hadn't warned her in advance. "Why didn't you tell me?! You could have told me all this before I left, but you let me go there looking like a fool!"
"That wasn't my intent," he protested weakly. "Tyrion was to negotiate if you couldn't. I thought once you learned what it was about, you'd step back and let him take over."
"And?" she pushed, when it became clear he wasn't going to tell her anything else.
"And Tyrion had orders to listen to the Tyrell's offer, negotiate and then end it without an agreement. He leaned toward her a little bit, reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry it happened, but you don't have to marry Loras, no one here ever wanted you to. We only agreed to the negotiations to please Mace. If the negotiator had taken the lead, you never would've had to know marriage between you and the Tyrells was a possibility."
Overlooking how incredibly fucked up that was, it did nothing to improve Daenerys's feelings. "So, if you never wanted me to marry Loras, why negotiate at all?" She knew the answer, she just wanted her brother to have to say it out loud.
"It's to our benefit if Mace believes we tried to unite our families," he said, making it seem much less disgusting than it actually was.
It was a game, a way to get the upper hand on House Tyrell, and Daenerys, well she was little more than a prop. She seethed under the surface but showed none of it. "Sorry to disappoint but Loras and I actually like one another."
Rhaegar was visibly uncomfortable, and this time it had nothing to do with his posture or the position of some pillows. "Daenerys, it was never our intention for you to marry Loras."
She shrugged, as if pledging your heart to someone was a minor detail. "If you cared enough to tell me that before I left, maybe I wouldn't have fucked up everything!"
"You didn't fuck up anything," Rhaegar said as he tried to salvage this. "We'll just inform the Tyrells you changed your mind."
Did he realize how disrespectful he was being, over and over again? He seemed oblivious to how he was hurting her. Instead of asking her what she wanted to do, or swaying her with persuasive arguments, he simply told her how it was going to be. "I don't think so," she said as she watched the vein in his neck pulse.
"Dany, this is…"
"I was told to negotiate, and I did. Loras and made an agreement in good faith. We decided we'd meet in a few weeks and spend more time together. I plan to keep my word."
"You don't have to."
"I want to."
"You want to marry Loras Tyrell?" he verified skeptically.
"I don't know, but he's a nice man and I am looking forward to seeing him again."
Sensing that she wouldn't be changing her mind, he took the first available chance to change the subject. "So, you enjoyed your time in the Reach then?"
She did, Margaery, Sansa, Arya, Olenna. It had been memorable. "It was productive, and not just with Loras."
"What do you mean?"
"I spoke to Lady Olenna. She invited me for tea before we left."
"How was that?" Rhaegar asked, "I know you like her."
"I do, and it was great. We talked about many things, including King's Landing and Father."
"What about him?"
She observed her brother closely. Was he being cautious or was this willful blindness? "We spoke about our hopes for the Realm after Father is no longer on the throne."
"You did what?!" Rhaegar roared. "I explicitly told you to wait! This is dangerous Daenerys, we have to be careful."
"I was careful, what was I supposed to do, say nothing when Olenna brings up father and the toll his reign is taking?" That was a slight exaggeration, but her brother was worrying about the wrong thing. The method didn't matter, not when her results were so positive.
"Damn it, Dany! I had a plan!"
Unrepentant she stared her brother down. "You did, and now you have an ally."
His mouth hung open for three full seconds before he gathered himself. "She said yes?"
"She said she's been waiting years for the chance to put Westeros on a different path. She's behind us, with all of her vassals."
"That's…." He stopped, unsure of the appropriate phrase.
"Olenna has started it, we need to see it through. Have you made any progress, rallying the other houses?"
"Dany, I have it under control."
"Then you can surely explain it to me. Who agreed to help us? Who will you approach next? I have some ideas about that too."
"It's all under control," Rhaegar assured her. "This time next year, Westeros will have a new King, and all of this will be but a memory.
A lot could happen in a year, but it was better than nothing. They could see the light at the end of the tunnel now. They'd gotten started, there was no turning back anymore.
R-C
Fifteen minutes into her lesson and already she'd had more than enough. She'd had to endure daily lessons since returning from Highgarden and displeased was a polite way to describe Daenerys's feelings about them. There was too much to think about, where to put her feet, the angle of her hips, what to do with her empty hand and that was all before the sword itself. "Try again!" Arya encouraged. Daenerys did, but even to her untrained eye, she knew the results were poor. She struck the target with little force, the blade shook the entire way in, and the spot Daenerys was aiming for was a good measure higher than where she actually hit.
"I can't do this," she complained as she fought the urge to throw her sword down in protest. Why did she have to do this?
"You can," Arya countered jumping down from the fence she'd been sitting on. "You're thinking too much, try following your instincts instead. Listen to that voice in the back of your mind, it'll tell you what to do."
"That voice is telling me to stop!" she announced boldly.
With a smirk on her face, Arya shook her head ever so slightly. "You can do this, just focus on the sword, hit the target and follow through like I taught you."
Grumbling under her breath about how unfair this was, she did as she was told. On her approach she purposefully stomped her feet. When she swung the wooden sword at the target, Daenerys released some of the anger that had built up inside her. Although she hated to admit it, the blow landed with more force than any of her prior attempts.
Arya noticed too. "That's it!" she praised. "Great work. Do that again, only this time, I want you to turn your hips toward the target. Use your whole body and the strike will become much more powerful."
She still didn't want to be there, doing this, but Arya's approval helped ease her annoyance at least temporarily. She tried to apply the guidance she received, she truly did, but she was at a loss. Arya had taught her the importance of keeping her feet firmly planted underneath you, so how could she do that and turn her body? Wouldn't she need to choose one or the other? Her attempt went about as well as she expected. It was more reminiscent of her first swing and not her last. She tried to turn toward the target, following the sword the way Arya showed her, but she was so worried about her feet she stumbled, making an already pitiful display even more disgraceful.
"Your feet!" Arya groaned. "Remember what I said about your feet."
"I did," she retorted childishly, "but then you wanted me to rotate my hips or some such nonsense. It's not my fault that I can't pivot my whole body without moving my feet."
"Yes, you can," she contended, sounding almost as tired as Daenerys was. Sweat was forming on her brow and she was glad Arya suggested they train away from the Unsullied, away from everyone, so no one would witness her failures.
Arya arrived behind her and immediately took the Princess in her arms. It wasn't quite the way Daenerys wanted Arya to hold her, but the effect was no less instantaneous. With one hand she grasped Daenerys's sword-arm at the wrist, the other rested on her hip. With one of her boots she nudged Daenerys's feet further apart, adjusting her stance. "That's better," she said, assessing her work, "now you can turn right or left easily without sacrificing power." To prove her point she guided Daenerys's sword to the left first, then the right, as if opposing invisible enemies. "How does that feel?"
She knew what Arya was asking but she couldn't help herself. She put her empty hand onto of Arya's as it rested on her hip. "Not bad at all," she purred playfully.
Daenerys looked over her shoulder just in time to see a gorgeous pair of grey eyes roll. Despite her huff of indignation, Daenerys detected a flicker of indulgence mixed in. "Watch," she said, determined to get them back on the right path. With Arya holding her wrist she guided her arm through a smooth stroke toward the target. As the wooden sword moved closer to its destination Arya used her other hand to steer Daenerys's hips as well. She hit the target hard, hard enough that Daenerys felt it reverberating in her arm afterward. It would've been exhilarating if she wasn't much more interested in the way Arya was touching her. If it was exercise they were after, she could think of plenty of more enjoyable pursuits. "Like that?" she asked, hoping to sound seductive.
"That was a lot better," Arya acknowledged, stepping back and filling Daenerys with disappointment. "You're getting better, I know you can do this."
"Mmmhmm," she hummed. "What if I have to go the other way?" she pondered. Her inquiry had more to do with getting Arya's hands on her again. than it did slaying some non-existent threat.
To Daenerys's delight both of Arya's strong hands grasped her hips at the same time, reminding her of other more intimate moments they shared in the same pose. "When you're done, your hips should be in line with your sword. Think you can do that?"
Daenerys was lost in thought and only realized it when she noticed Arya watching her expectantly, obviously waiting for a response. How was she supposed to think about warfare and combat when she had her amazing lover and her talented hands so close? Should she admit she hadn't heard a word Arya said? She nodded dumbly and Arya stepped away again, waiting to see her put the guard's teachings into practice. She had no idea where to start. She remembered her insincere question but little else. Arya likely gave her guidance about hitting a target off to the side, so she'd follow her instincts and pretend she knew what to do.
It was a disaster, and she knew it from the first mumbled curse she heard her instructor utter. Daenerys stopped before actually swinging the sword, not wanting to embarrass herself further.
"What's wrong, didn't I explain it well enough?" Arya was in front of her then, between her and the target.
Daenerys couldn't let her take the blame. "I'm sure you explained it perfectly," she said sweetly, before stealing a quick kiss. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't really listening and…"
Arya sighed. "Daenerys this is important and not just for your father. You should know how to defend yourself. You're a Targaryen."
She may hate swords and hate being forced to learn this, but she didn't hate Arya or her obvious concern. "I am a Targaryen, but I'm third-born and a woman," she amended, "I have no duties beyond those I make for myself and even then, I require no weapons."
"You wear the knife Grey Worm gave you," Arya pointed out.
She couldn't deny that, not with the small blade currently strapped to the outside of her leg. "That's not the same thing, having a knife for emergencies and being trained for war are wildly different."
"They are," she agreed, "but you should still know both."
Arya was only trying to help, but Daenerys was tired, hot and sore. She wanted to be done with this. "Doesn't it matter to anyone what I want?" she whined unfairly.
Arya grabbed the sword Daenerys was holding and tossed it off to the side. "It matters to me," she swore, and the Princess believed her. "It does matter, and I'm sorry we have to do this, but your father expects results."
Instead of feeling relief to see the sword hit the ground, Daenerys was overcome with guilt. The truth was, if Daenerys had had the courage to tell her father the sword wasn't hers or if she'd been brave enough to say 'no' when he started making demands, they wouldn't be in this mess. She had no right to be angry at Arya. She was trying to make the best of a bad situation. Also, taking her frustration out on an innocent woman just because she was there when her father wasn't was beneath Daenerys. That was not the kind of person she wanted to be. It couldn't be easy for Arya either. She had to side with a man she hated, against the woman she loved, in an effort to keep the peace.
She went to her lover and hugged her, forgetting all the reasons they shouldn't be overt in their affections. They were in a secluded, rarely used corner of the grounds, she was confident they could have a moment without revealing their relationship to the world. "Thank you for doing this."
"I'd do anything for you," Arya replied sincerely, and Daenerys's heart melted. "I know you hate it, but your father said it was mandatory."
"That was before we left for Highgarden, that was weeks ago."
"I doubt that'll matter to the King." Arya remarked.
"If he remembers," Daenerys resisted. "It's far more likely that he forgot all of it, me, you, the sword. In the days since he's had an endless supply of things to distract him. I'd wager if you asked him right now, he wouldn't even know that he has a daughter." Although a tad extreme, at least she hoped it was, the main argument held true. Her father issued orders constantly and most were never carried out because he found something else to hold his attention. It would be the same with this. The battle he insisted she prepare for, it existed only in his head, it would never come to pass and therefore no logical reason Daenerys needed to master the sword.
"Are you sure? It won't take long to teach you the basics and I promise I'll make it as painless as possible," she proposed.
"I'm sure." She looked deep into her lover's eyes and then brought their mouths together. "Everything is going to be okay. Soon Rhaegar will be King and we won't have to worry about things like this."
"It's just…"
Daenerys cut off her objection with another kiss. "All this training has me in need of a bath. Care to join me?"
With a smirk, Arya challenged her, "Incapable of bathing by yourself Princess?"
"I'm perfectly capable," she retorted seriously, "but having shared a bath with you serval times, I can confidently say I find the experience much more enjoyable when you're there." Fearing that Arya was going to remain defiant, she pulled out what she thought was her most compelling weapon. "Besides, how will you keep me safe, if you aren't with me?"
"I could guard the door," Arya offered while she worked to conceal her grin.
"I can think of few more vulnerable positions for a young Princess than alone in the bath. I fear you standing in the hall wouldn't make me feel safe enough."
"What would make you feel safe?" Arya asked as she bent over to pick up the discarded sword Daenerys no longer needed.
"You, very close." Every inch of her body felt warm and she wanted Arya more right then than she'd ever wanted anything. It would be a trial just to make it upstairs before she began ripping the young woman's clothes off.
Arya spun around and Daenerys was there waiting. Their eyes met and volumes were spoken between them without words. She leaned forward as if she meant to kiss Daenerys then slipped past her cheek, stopping near her ear. "I'm at your service," she whispered.
With a devious chuckle Arya backed away. She didn't look back as she walked toward the castle. She tossed the wooden sword effortlessly into the air with her left hand and caught it with her right, looking the picture of calm. Daenerys was anything but. She was shaking, her knees rattling so violently they were practically knocking together. She'd need a moment to compose herself before she chased after Arya, luckily, she knew exactly where the Stark was going.
R-C
It was late, and she was the last person making use of the yard. Taking swing after swing, she struck hard at any target within her reach. She wasn't thinking, it was a mindless exercise in brute force with the sole goal of tiring her out so thoroughly that she might go upstairs and fall into a dreamless sleep next to her Dragon.
She was focused so completely on the targets and the task she appointed herself, that she didn't hear the approaching footsteps. She delivered three decisive blows to the same target in rapid succession, each one cutting deeper into what would be the right side of a man's neck. "I think he's dead," Missandei noted lightly.
She turned too quickly and without due care. She still had her sword raised, so when she spun, it was suddenly pointed at the startled handmaiden. She backed up but didn't otherwise comment. Arya dropped the Valyrian steel to the dirt. "I'm sorry, I thought I was the only one out this late." That didn't excuse her raising a blade against her friend, but she hoped it was a sufficient start.
"I shouldn't have snuck up on you," Missandei said.
Unsure of what else there was to say, she tried to adjust their course. "Going to see Grey Worm?" she guessed.
"I came to see you."
Arya immediately imagined the worst. In her mind only something horrible could make someone seek her out so late at night. "Is everything okay, is Daenerys…."
"She's fine, she was reading when I left, and she probably still is, she was trying to stay awake until you arrived."
Regardless of their intent, Missandei's words made Arya feel bad. Daenerys shouldn't have to wait on her, but how could she explain she wasn't ready to go in and face another nightmare just yet?
"Is everything okay, Arya?"
"What do you mean?" She had a pretty good idea what Missandei was asking, but she hoped the extra seconds might allow her to settle on an acceptable response.
"I've noticed you've been quiet lately." Arya opened her mouth but Missandei knew what she was doing and stopped her. "Quieter," she corrected, "you've been quieter, you're tense, and angrier."
It was all true, she should have anticipated Missandei would not only notice, but ask about her poor behavior. "I know and I'm sorry, I'm trying, it's just harder than I thought."
"Is it Daenerys?"
What? Daenerys was the one thing she was sure about. "Gods no, things with Daenerys and I are great." As she spoke it occurred to her that maybe Missandei heard a different opinion from someone else. "Did she say something to you?" It was wrong to trap Missandei like that, to ask her to betray Daenerys's trust, but Arya didn't see any other way. If Daenerys was having doubts about their relationship, the only person she'd confide in was Missandei. If Arya was going to fix things before it was too late, she'd need the advanced warning only the handmaiden could provide.
"She hasn't said anything, she's as happy as you are," Missandei clarified. "She doesn't even know I'm here."
"Why are you?" she inquired, more harshly than she meant to.
"To make sure you're okay. I was there when you and Daenerys argued about her plans for the throne and then there was Viserys and Daario and now she tells me her lessons aren't going well and that you're frustrated. I'm concerned for you." Missandei paused and then summarized her points. "You're my friend too and if I can help, I will."
Arya was appreciative of the sentiment, but in this case, she wasn't sure there was anything to be done. "It's harder than I thought it would be," she confessed quietly, squatting down next to her sword. She ran her sweaty hands through her hair.
"What is?" Missandei pushed.
"Being here. Lately the memories, the nightmares, they're all I can think about."
Astutely, Missandei's next question hit the nail right on the head. "It's different than it was before?"
"I didn't think it would be, I thought I could be here without seeing their faces or hearing their screams all the time."
"Is this because you saw your sister again?"
Arya took time to consider that. Seeing Sansa undoubtedly intensified the nightmares while she was at Highgarden, but the torment persisted. "That's part of it," she assumed, "but I think the rest is me."
"What did you do?"
"I decided to stay," she answered without elaborating.
"And you think this is why you are having more memories and dreams?"
"I thought I was passed it," she said again, as if repeating it would somehow make it true. "I want to stay with Daenerys, be where she is, even if it's here. I didn't realize just how hard it would be though."
Unbothered by her repetitive statements, Missandei kept trying to provide assistance. "What's changed?"
She took a deep breath before replying. "When I first got here, no matter how bad it was, i knew it wasn't forever. Eventually Viserys would return and I could go back to Dorne."
Missandei understood. "And now you can't." She quickly caught herself and amended her point, "You could go back to Sunspear Daenerys would…"
"I don't want to," Arya insisted honestly. "I want to be with Daenerys, I just haven't been sleeping and it makes me short-tempered."
"That's understandable," she said, lowering herself to match Arya's height. "You could tell Daenerys, she would understand. She loves you and only wants you to be happy."
More than once she tried to confide in the woman she loved, but she always lost her nerve. "She carries so much already, she blames herself for what her father's done, I don't want to add to her burden."
"You aren't a burden," Missandei disagreed, "not to her. You're no more a burden to her than she is to you."
As usual, Missandei was able to take a complicated problem and make it simple. She straightened up. "Thank you Missandei."
"You're welcome," she said kindly, before adding "next time you want to talk, don't make me track you in the middle of the night."
Whether she was cold, or just shivering to make her argument more compelling, Arya had to laugh. "Agreed, now let's get you inside."
She saw the satisfied smile on Missandei's lips as Arya escorted her back to the castle, but she didn't mind. It helped to talk about what was bothering her, even if no solution presented itself.
"Goodnight," Missandei said as they separated in front of the door to her room.
"Rest well and thank you again." She felt eyes on her as she continued on to Daenerys's bedchamber. They remained until she crossed the threshold and slipped inside.
R-C
While searching for Aemon, they heard them before they saw them. Daenerys stopped walking and looked to her guard with concern. "What is that?"
Arya had a pretty good idea what was happening and if she was right, they needed to move quickly. She put a hand on Daenerys's lower back to guide her. "Stay close," she instructed before she increased speed and changed direction. They could visit with Aemon later.
As she feared they came across Rhaegar and Oberyn near the throne room. It was obvious their disagreement had been ongoing and heated. Arya guessed they had been coming from opposite directions only to meet at the intersection of the halls. Whatever personal space existed when they began had vanished in the time since. They were nearly nose to nose, spitting angry accusations and crude comments back and forth.
"We have to do something," Daenerys implored.
Arya wasn't sure she agreed with that. What was happening between Oberyn and Rhaegar was a long time in the making. Perhaps it was better for them to finally say what needed to be said. Ser Barristan seemed to have the same idea, because although he was nearby, he was doing nothing to rein in the Crown Prince or disperse the Viper.
"I've been here for days," Oberyn shouted, "and not once have you asked about your wife and children."
When Rhaegar replied, it was lacking the hate Arya was expecting. "I lost my right to know them a long time ago," he said, sounding contrite.
"We agree on that. Do you even remember their names?" Next to her Daenerys gasped at the question, and her brother's face contorted in pain. True to form, Oberyn kept up the assault, relentlessly attacking his enemy. "When people ask you how many children you have, what do you tell them?"
Rhaegar said nothing in his own defense, likely because he knew no words would satisfy Oberyn.
"They're great," he told the absent father, "not that you asked nor care. They are smart and kind, they have much of their mother in them. Aegon loves to learn new things, no matter how busy he is during the day, each night finds him next to a fire, with a book in his lap. Rhaenys got her mother's heart. She's quick-witted, beautiful and stronger than she realizes. She dreams of sailing away one day and seeing the world. She'll do it too, it's only a question of when."
Watching Rhaegar absorb the information about his children was odd. At times he looked pleased, wearing a slight, proud smile, but other times Oberyn's words cut him deeply and he'd wince.
"Do you ever think of your children, of your wife?" Arya could feel the nervous energy pouring off Daenerys. She had her hands twisted up in front of her and chewed her bottom lip as they waited to see how bad this was going to get. "Elia is well," Oberyn lamented, "she's raised those children, your children alone for years, with nothing from you, not help, not gold, not even a kind word. She should be angry and bitter but that is not my sister's way. She remains loving and generous in spite of everything you did to her!"
"I…" Rhaegar started feebly.
"You what?" he pressed. "You're sorry? Does an apology make up for years spent without a father?" He didn't let him answer, taking another guess at what Rhaegar would have said. "You regret it? You wish you had it all to do again? He scoffed and glared defiantly at Westeros's next King. "I don't think you do. You don't care about anyone but yourself. The spoiled little Prince…"
"That's enough," Barristan said, stepping forward, finally deciding this exchange wasn't helping anyone. "The Prince has an appointment."
"Such a brave man, running away from the truth," Oberyn taunted. With a devious smirk he looked at the cane Rhaegar was leaning on. "Well, maybe not running."
"Stop this, please!" Daenerys begged of her.
Personally, Arya felt Rhaegar was getting only a fraction of what he deserved and she would've been content to stand there all day, enjoying the show, but Daenerys was asking for help. Daenerys was asking her for help. "Stay here," she advised, before she approached the warring Princes.
She got to them just as Oberyn was twisting the knife one more time. "I don't know how you can live with yourself."
Without sparing a glance for Rhaegar she put her palm flat on Oberyn's chest and gave him a firm push, creating some space between them. Oberyn managed to keep his eyes off Rhaegar long enough to look at Arya for an explanation. She spoke quietly, so the others wouldn't hear. "You've made your point, my friend. He's not worth it."
She could feel the heat of two intense gazes, both belonging to Targaryens, but she focused on Oberyn. Smiling, she bumped his shoulder with hers. "Rough day?" she asked rhetorically. "You look like you could use a drink."
"Are you offering?"
"Sure, I'll find a bottle and meet you in your chambers in a minute."
Slowly the anger receded and the man in front of her reverted back to the generous, playful, wickedly funny mentor she was used to. "Take two," he encouraged seriously, looking past Arya to something or someone behind her back, "your girl looks upset."
She turned and immediately saw what Oberyn had. Daenerys looked like she was filled to the brim with nervous energy. Her toes were tapping against the floor, her arms were crossed, and she wasn't even trying to hide the fact that she staring openly at her guard. "Two minutes," she agreed, leaving Oberyn to go and settle Daenerys.
R-C
"It was that bad?" Missandei verified. "Many of the servants are talking about it."
"I bet they are," she remarkedly coldly. "It's not everyday the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms gets berated in public."
"I'm sorry," Missandei said. "I know that couldn't have been easy for you to hear.
It definitely wasn't easy, it was immensely difficult. She knew Rhaegar well and could read the subtle changes in his expressions that most would miss. She saw how mentioning Elia and the children hurt him and a part of her wanted to comfort him, but that was only a part, the rest of her, a vast majority held a differing opinion. "I felt for him, but…" she trailed off before completing the thought.
"But?" Missandei pushed.
"I also agree with most of what Oberyn said. How long since we got back from Sunspear? He hasn't asked about Elia or his children once. I kept waiting for him to bring it up, but he never did."
"They returned to Dorne a long time ago, yes?"
"Yes, before Aemon was born, he hasn't seen or spoken to his children since," Daenerys confirmed, getting frustrated just speaking about it. "I always assumed it was Elia's choice to return home, her choice to cut off contact, but it was his doing. He has no one to blame but himself."
"Does that mean your brother sent them away?" Missandei checked as diplomatically as she could. She didn't know everything Daenerys did about Rhaegar's past or the reasons behind it and somehow, she still managed to reach the right conclusion. It was beyond impressive.
"Yes," she admitted, "he fell in love with someone else. He only married Elia to please our father, so perhaps it wasn't hard to send her away, but the children? He has a son and a daughter who have grown up without him and he doesn't seem to care."
"Perhaps you should ask him about it."
She considered and then dismissed the notion. "No, he's had plenty of chances to ask about them, or mention them in conversation, but he doesn't. Oberyn was right about one thing, if he had it to do again, he wouldn't change what he did to Elia and their children. He wanted it this way, Aemon here, Aegon and Rhaenys there. There is no justification for that. Even if he never loved Elia, they are his children and he just pretends they don't exist so he can dote on the son he covets, birthed by the woman he did love." She hadn't meant to say all that, but it poured out once she got started. She hadn't realized she had so many bottled up feelings on the subject. Finishing her rant, she boiled it down to a single statement. "I would never abandon my children as he did, I'd die first."
"What did Arya say about the fight?" Missandei wondered, clearly trying to relax Daenerys by mentioning her lover. "She was with you, wasn't she?"
Despite her frustrations, she smiled when she thought of the dark haired, grey eyed Stark she loved. "I think she was thrilled," she acknowledged. "Had I not asked her to stop it, I think she would have stayed there to watch Oberyn yell at Rhaegar for the rest of the day."
"I thought she'd be here."
"She was, but I told her to spend some time with Oberyn since I don't plan on doing much this afternoon."
"Shall I pour the wine then?" Missandei proposed.
Should she? Arya was busy and Daenerys didn't have anything else pending. A lone meeting for Tyrion hadn't filled her schedule, which is why she and Arya were seeking out Aemon when they happened upon his father by mistake. She wasn't opposed to dividing her afternoon between Missandei and a bottle of fine wine. "That sounds perfect."
R-C
"I just couldn't help myself," Oberyn justified as he finished his second drink. "I saw him there and he was laughing, talking to the knight and I just wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face."
"I know the feeling," she promised honestly. "I feel that way every time I see him."
He held out his cup for her to refill. She didn't hesitate. "You restrain yourself better than I do."
"I have a reason to bite my tongue that you don't."
She didn't need to elaborate, he understood. "I hope I didn't make things difficult for you and the Princess."
"We'll be fine," Arya predicted confidently. "She didn't say so, but I'd wager that Daenerys agrees with you."
"He's her brother," Oberyn reminded her.
She was undeterred by the logic. "Doran is your brother, do you agree with everything he does?"
She watched a grin spread across his face before his drink blocked her view. "Fair point," he noted as he lowered his cup to the table.
It was quiet for a time. Not the awkward or tense kind, just a peaceful coexistence, between two friends who didn't need meaningless noise.
When he restarted their conversation Oberyn was no longer interested in discussing his dispute with Rhaegar. "You should come with me when I leave," he said casually. "This place poisons everything it touches."
Not expecting that, she choked on her wine. Arya coughed and sputtered while Oberyn grinned proudly. It wasn't a stretch to imagine he timed that 'innocent' comment to reach her just as she was trying to swallow.
She took a moment to clear her airway and then another to glare across the table at her friend. "I feel no differently about King's Landing than I did the day I left Sunspear, but this is where Daenerys is, for now anyway, so it's where I need to be."
Rather than being disappointed by her refusal, he seemed pleased, too pleased in fact. "It's strange to see you like this."
Although she knew, she asked, "Like what?"
"In love," he answered, "happy. It is a good look for you."
She did her best to ignore the burning of her cheeks and neck. "No one is more surprised than me."
Wisely Oberyn nodded. "That is usually how these things happen."
Getting them back on the right path, she said, "I can't leave her. I need to stay here."
Unbothered he moved on. "She could join you. It's plain to see she is unhappy here. You could settle in Dorne or cross the Narrow Sea to Essos."
She would be lying if she said she wasn't tempted by the future Oberyn was suggesting. She pictured it, her and Daenerys on the deck of a ship, crossing the water. The Princess would have her freedom and they would have each other.
"Aerys would hunt us," Arya said, giving voice to the largest flaw in that plan. It wasn't the only potential problem, but it was the most difficult to navigate.
"From what you say, he may not be in a position to interfere much longer."
That was true, but could she ask Daenerys to do that? She was forced to walk away from her old life once, to break ties with everything and everyone she knew, and that was one of the hardest things Arya had ever done. Was it fair to ask Daenerys to endure that just because she had a few negative memories of the capital? In the end, she was undecided. "Maybe," she allowed. "Tell me news from home."
Mercifully, Oberyn didn't force the issue. "Let's see," he said, thinking about her request. She knew when he'd settled on the story he wanted to tell, because he looked downright eager. "A nobleman from the mountains wanted his daughter to marry into an influential Pentoshi family."
"That's not news," Arya quipped, "I'd be more surprised if a nobleman didn't want his daughter to marry into a suitable family." Due to its location and strong relations with many Eastern cities, it was just as common for a Dornish to bond his family to someone in Essos as it was to choose a suitor from within the Realm.
"True, but unfortunately for this particular noble, the family he wanted to join had only one son and he already had a wife."
"Rotten luck," she jested, "he'll have to find someone else to buy his daughter."
Oberyn's eyes twinkled with mischief. "You'd think so, but the nobleman wasn't willing to accept defeat. He sent assassins to kill the man's wife and children, making him available to marry the daughter."
She studied his face to decide if he could be believed. Oberyn loved to tell extravagant stories and he didn't usually let minor details like the truth stop him. "Really?"
He nodded, wearing a grim expression. "Unfortunately, he chose well, and the man's family was dead within weeks."
"Did the daughter marry the widowed man?" Arya wondered.
"No, when she learned what her father had done she sent a raven to Sunspear telling Doran of his crimes."
Wow, that took no small amount of courage and fortitude. "She accused her own father?"
"Doran summoned him to the Water Gardens to answer the charges. He denied he was guilty."
"They always do," Arya muttered as she waited to hear the results.
"He requested a trial by combat."
This immediately caught Arya's attention. Trials by combat were rare and although Arya would be content if that was the only way disputes were settled, she knew not everyone shared her enthusiasm. "Did he fight for himself?"
Oberyn chuckled. "Of course not. A man with enough gold to hire competent assassins certainly has enough to retain a champion as well."
"How did it end?"
He chuckled again. "With my spear in his chest."
"Doran chose you to fight for Dorne?"
"I had nothing else to do," he explained casually, "Ellaria and the girls were shopping." It was as if inviting a man to try and kill him was an everyday occurrence.
"Naturally. How did they take it, when they found out?"
He smiled knowingly, pausing for dramatic effect. "Ellaria wasn't happy," he said, underselling his woman's reaction no doubt. "The girls were only upset I didn't wait until they got back."
Arya laughed. That sounded about right. She would miss Oberyn when he returned to them, but she was determined to enjoy the time they had together, before it was gone.
R-C
Arya was climbing into bed next to Daenerys when she was finally brave enough to broach the subject. It had been on her mind all evening, so much so that the Princess asked twice if she was okay. She said she was.
"Oberyn thinks we should leave," she started, putting her nervous energy into adjusting the blanket around her legs. Would Daenerys want to stay? Would Arya come to want those words back someday? Had she just done irrevocable damage to their relationship? The questions came hard and fast without easy answers. Daenerys's life was far from perfect, but it could definitely be worse. Unlike Arya she still had a family, perhaps she wouldn't want to be separated from them. Would Daenerys come to hate her as she hated Aerys for dividing her family?
Daenerys's reply interrupted her growing panic. "And go where?" Arya could hear the smile in her voice without looking. She didn't yet understand the seriousness of the conversation they were having.
"Dorne, Essos, anywhere really, anywhere but here."
A sharp intake of breath announced when Daenerys understood. "What do you think?" she asked carefully.
Arya led with the things she was most certain of. "I love you and if you want to spend the rest of your life in the Red Keep and King's Landing then so be it, I'll stand at your side and protect you, but Oberyn wasn't wrong, we could leave."
It was quiet and Arya's anxiety became unbearable. One more time she was struck by her limitations. She could face a man in combat, she could kill and she could defend, but when it came to talking about her feelings to the woman she loved, she felt woefully ill-prepared.
"My father would never…"
"It would be a lot to give up," Arya agreed, even without knowing precisely how she was going to finish that sentence. "I'm not saying I want to go," she clarified, "I'm not asking you to leave with me, I just wanted to make you aware of the option."
A pair of soft fingers pressed into her jaw, turning her head. Their eyes met and all Arya saw was love there. "Thank you," she said passionately. "I will keep that in mind." She leaned over into Arya's space and stole a kiss. When she was back on her side of the bed she asked, "Was this what you were worrying about all night?"
Arya didn't need a mirror to know she was blushing. "I was afraid to tell you," she confessed.
"Why?"
"I didn't want you to think I was asking you to choose, I'd never do such a thing. I don't want to be the reason you lose your family."
Daenerys took her face in both hands, cupping her cheeks with care. "You didn't force me to choose, and I haven't lost anything. It's as you said, I have one more option now than I did before. That's hardly bad."
"I love you," Arya said, meaning it with every ounce of her. "I'll be wherever you are, wherever you want me to be."
Purring softly, she went in for another kiss. This one was longer and deeper. Without breaking their connection, the Princess climbed on top of her lover. When air became necessary the kiss ended and Daenerys gifted her with a dazzling smile, the kind bards write about. "I want you right here," she decreed, "with me."
Arya wouldn't complain about that order anytime soon.
R-C
Author's Note: There you have it, a relatively peaceful chapter for the girls. I've had that fight between Oberyn and Rhaegar playing in my head since I decided this was going to be a full-length story. I'm glad I finally got to it.
I apologize to the people who are tired of Daenerys and Rhaegar having repetitive conversations that don't go anywhere, I'm tired of writing them, trust me, but I really felt they were necessary. In this world, Rhaegar is the brother she loves, the brother who protects her, Daenerys would give him the benefit of every doubt before assuming the worst, and that means we have to wait until she reaches her breaking point. Next time, I don't think Daenerys will be quite so amenable, so there is something to look forward to.
Thanks for reading,
Happy Thanksgiving to the readers from the States.
