Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Ice and Fire Novels, Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon TV shows. However, I decided to have a little play around with the characters. I do not earn any money from writing these stories, it is for my entertainment and is something I like to share.
Arya III
Wearing the face of Salladhor Saan was a completely new experience for Arya. Firstly she'd never been a man before, adapting to completely different body parts turned out to be almost as much of a learning experience as being blind, considering her initial inability to control them. The second was the size difference. No matter how much she had tried to be no one, she had always been a girl, which meant walking had become a challenge at the beginning as Salladhor was much taller, broader and muscular than Arya. Thirdly was the voice, which was the easiest part. She had become accustomed to changing voices, there was an art to it, however his voice was much deeper than hers and it was harder to maintain than a female voice. Most of all, the hardest part to maintain by far was being the captain of a pirate ship when she knew very little of the job. Instead she was taking as much advice from Ser Davos as she could. It was also fortunate that Davos knew some of the men on board the ship which allowed her to get away with not knowing the names of all of those aboard. It turned out Salladhor was in charge of a lot of men and only knew the names of a select few, so her forgetting names was completely in character. What was odd on the ship was the amount of men coming down with a strange sickness.
Within hours of setting off from Sharp's Point, two of the ship hands had fallen sick. First came the vomiting and the shits, then came the fever and shortly afterwards death. The bodies were committed to the sea as was the pirate custom, however there was growing concern among the crew. Arya told them they would stop off at Davos ship and bring some of his crew on board just in case of any further illness, she then ordered the ship to be scrubbed. This didn't stop the sickness, another three had died by the time they took those from Ser Davos ship, The Wolf's Maid. They took on forty men, twenty deck hands and twenty for rowing. Ser Davos himself had been tied up during the raid to make it appear the ship was being attacked by pirates instead of him leading it. Arya insisted they took the wine, some food, clothes, especially furs, gold and weapons. After they left, Ser Davos was untied and more men began to die, although only the ones who sailed with Salladhor Saan seemed to suffer. Those beneath deck were mainly slaves and knew nothing other than to row, they could not tell of any plots or alter the course of the ship. Not one of these men fell ill with the sickness. Once all of the men who had sailed with and knew the pirate died, nobody else, except for the pirate himself who died in his cabin caught the fever.
Arya knew how to kill people and cover her tracks. To ensure they had a body for the pirate, they used one of the slaves below deck who had died of natural causes and could be wrapped to look like Salladhor Saan. Once all of the original pirates had been removed, only then could Arya appear as herself. To prevent the men questioning Ser Davos about how come Arya had magically appeared, he told them she had been kept hidden away from the sickness as she was a valuable hostage. As Ser Davos was not only their captain but Master of Ships, nobody was going to question his decision as to why they were sailing with a girl on board, or why they were sailing north instead of returning to their command near Dragonstone.
Salladhor Saan's death occurred just after they entered the Shivering Sea where they had already sailed past the Fingers. So much had happened with so many deaths, yet they had only been sailing for four days. The winds had been good and the slaves had been fed well, giving them more energy to row faster. They had also been promised freedom for fealty, which they had all sworn, and thus they were eating better and resting more. Some of the rowers on Ser Davos ship had been brought aboard to help relieve some of the pressure, these men also swore fealty, not that it meant much, none of them were fighting men and if they were to go up against the Unsullied it would be like lambs to the slaughter, but staying on board the ship was not an option.
The final plan they formed was for to sail up the Last River. The ship wasn't a large one and was shallow enough to sail up a deep large river. This would take them as far as the Kingsroad where they could march south. Although they were around two days behind the Unsullied, the size of their army meant Arya and Ser Davos could travel at twice the speed. Arya was get off the ship early near a farm she knew of to find a horse and to travel on ahead and warn Sansa of their arrival as she would only take two days to get to Winterfell on horseback. Moreover, disembarking a fleet of ships took a lot longer than the two or so hours it would take for just over a hundred men. They knew the more time Jon and Sansa had to plan for the invasion, the more that could be done about it.
Eventually Arya got off the ship. She was thankful as the last few days had started to get to her. As much as she loved sailing, it became monotonous, especially when she knew there was a battle waiting for her. Being in the saddle would be a blessing to her sea legs, although riding was equally as exhausting as sailing, if not more so. Her trip would take her past the Dreadfort, over the Sheepshead Hills, across the White Knife and straight to Winterfell, where she hoped she would see not only her sister, but her brother.
It only took her an hour to make it to the farm after she'd come ashore. The farm was being manned by a couple of Bolton loyalist brothers, despite the Bolton's no longer existing. Arya knew they would plot against her sister if they had half the chance, but money and winter had prevented them from doing so. Should they decide to round up more people who might have a grudge against her sister, then it would cause unnecessary deaths. Other than wanting horses, this was how Arya justified her actions. The House of Black and White had tried to make her a ruthless killer, but had only half succeeded. She was ruthless, but she needed motive, she didn't kill innocents unless they were already dying.
By the time she got to the farm, it had started to rain. Spring may have come quickly, but in the north that often meant rain, which was even worse than snow. There weren't many hiding spots, just a few rocks, but she managed to make her way to the stables to check on the horses. She found two mares, one was a chestnut and the other dapple grey. Deciding to take both, she approached them to see which was the friendlier one. It turned out to be the chestnut one, meaning she would ride her and take the other with her. It might slow her down by a couple of hours, but every horse was useful in a battle. If the Unsullied were on foot, riders would always have an advantage, no matter how good the soldier. As quietly as she could, Arya saddled the chestnut mare, who she had named Hope, because that was all she had for them to beat the Unsullied. Once the horses were ready she slipped over to the farm. The two men were inside discussing the recent dragon sightings. As much as Arya knew she needed to hurry up, she also wanted to hear about what they had seen or heard.
"I don't see why I should give more grain the the fuckin she-wolf. Sendin that dragon to spy on us. I be she were in on it wi er brother. Wish dragon Queen would of killed em both." the first one said.
"That dragon better not come back again. Three times I saw it circlin about before it flew into the sea an came out with what looked like a man to me. Probably a sailor." the second one said.
"You can't see the sea from ere." the first man frowned. "Yer makin it up."
"So what if I am? We can tell the Queen to fuck off cus one of us men was eaten alive by the dragon. We should ask her for compensation." the second one said.
"We aven't got any men work for us." the first one frowned. "They got killed at the battle of the bastards."
"She don't know that." the second one shrugged.
"And if she finds out? That dragon'll ave us for dinner." the first one shook his head. "Lucky its flown back west, probably to Winterfell. Hope it burns the fuckin place down. But we need to keep quiet, if it starts to do proper damage the time will right to gather men. Nobody wants dragons up ere. Our grain stores are full fer the first time in years, not sendin er none."
Arya had heard enough of the two imbeciles. She took a deep breath and blinked a few times until she could feel tears in her eyes. She rubbed them a little and ran up and down on the spot to make her feel slightly out of breath before running to the front door of the cabin and banging on the door.
"Elp...elp..." she cried out.
Footsteps came from inside and the first man opened the door. "What's goin on ere? Who are you?" he asked.
"Me orse, it killed me orse." she cried. "Nutmeg." tears streamed down her face.
"Ahh, come in lass. Yer alreyt, yer safe now. Nobody ere's gonna urt you." he smiled kindly. "What appened?"
"Nutmeg was avin a drink out of the river, while I was avin me dinner." Arya sobbed. "It came up from nowhere and killed er this mornin."
"Was it the dragon?" the second man said angrily.
"Can't ave bin. It ant bin ere since yesterday mornin." the first man eyed Arya suspiciously.
Arya's stance changed. "No, just a ship." she yanked the dagger from its hilt and threw it across the room into the second man's eye. She turned to the first man, pulled out needle and stabbed him in the groin. "My name is Arya Stark, I'll tell my sister there is plenty of grain here to collect." she smiled. The second man was had died instantly, but the first man was doubled up, the sword had gone through his testicles and he was bleeding heavily. "Does it hurt?" Arya said sweetly. "Would you like me to end it for you?" she asked as the man began to fumble on the table behind him, for which Arya suspected as a weapon. "I'm feeling merciful today." she added and slid needle into his throat, killing him before he had chance to fight back.
She rummaged through the cupboards and found some food to take with her and packed it into a bag she'd got. She stripped their faces so that she had cover if she crossed anymore Bolton loyalists while on Dreadfort lands. Arya left the cabin, took the horses from the stables and set off home to Winterfell to see her family.
After another two days on the road and barely seeing a soul, she finally saw the turrets of Winterfell in the distance. Her stomach lurched at memories of the last time she was there, the deaths of friends and those she even regarded as family. The Night King and saving Bran, or whoever he was. She had kept the Valyrian steel dagger close to her as she knew this was the key. Some of her knowledge she'd kept to herself as she knew Jon was the only person who could answer questions surrounding it, that was if Jon was even at Winterfell. Her concerns over Jon were soon answered as she heard the screech of a dragon in the air. Arya looked up and saw Drogon with two people on his back, one was unmistakably Jon, the other looked like her sister, which she had to admit was probably the strangest thing she'd ever witnessed, especially as Sansa looked to be wearing breeches. This sight hurried Arya up as she wanted to see them together before they went to their respective chambers.
By the time Arya arrived through the gates and Jon and Sansa had already left the courtyard, clearly not aware of her arrival. A few of the servants bowed their heads when they recognised her, but she ushered them along, taking the horses to the stables and deciding to surprise her siblings. One of the maids told Arya Sansa and Jon had gone to Sansa's chambers, she'd tried to tell Arya to wait until she was announced, but Arya ran off not listening to the maid, being announced was the last thing she wanted. When she arrived, she could hear Jon and Sansa talking and oddly laughing. Arya decided to listen in for a moment to see what she'd missed.
"You were right Jon." Sansa said.
"About what?" Jon replied.
"The breeches being more practical for riding dragons." she told him.
"Not always." Arya thought she heard Jon say, but she was sure she must have misheard as that made no sense.
The room was quiet for a moment before Sansa spoke. "Here? Now? It's still daylight." it sounded like a question.
"Nobody is going to know, they won't see anything." Jon replied, his voice almost a whisper, confusing Arya even more. "We'll just have to be quiet, we don't want people listening in this time."
"Wont it be uncomfortable?" Sansa whispered.
"Comfort's not all it's cracked up to be. But it's definitely hard." Jon chuckled.
Arya had had enough, she suspected they were planning on taking Drogon out again. They probably didn't realise they were about to be attacked by the Unsullied, although Jon should have seen the fleet on it's way to White Harbour or even after it had landed. When Arya opened the door and walked into the room, nothing could have prepared her for the sight she saw.
Sansa was stood with the back up against the table facing the door while Jon had his back towards Arya. Sansa's head was facing the ceiling, her neck stretched out, which her brother was kissing. To make matters worse, Jon's hand was tucked down her sisters breeches while it looked like Sansa was rubbing the front of Jon's breeches. It took all of about a second to realise what she had walked in on.
"Seven hells, what the fuck do you two think you're doing?" Arya cried out.
Sansa's head snapped up and she looked at her sister in horror. "Arya!" she cried as Jon ripped his hand from Sansa's breeches and turned around, screwing his face up.
Arya folded her arms. "It seems that Targaryen blood is beginning to show its true colours."
"It's not what you think." Jon shook his head, while Sansa was fastening the laces on her breeches.
"So you weren't fingering your sister?" Arya cried.
"Keep your voice down!" Sansa hissed.
"I will not." Arya's felt her face go red. "And you should know better. Jon's got an excuse, it seems Targaryen's do have a fondness for family after all. He fucked his aunt remember."
"Arya!" Jon's eyes flashed.
"Answer me Jon!" she demanded. "Why were you fingering your sister? And why were you letting him?" she turned to Sansa.
"She's not my sister." Jon said quietly turning to Sansa.
"Yes she is, just like you're my brother." Arya cried back.
"No. she's not." Jon shook his head.
"Why do you keep saying that?" Arya was feeling more and more betrayed by the moment. If he no longer saw Sansa as his sister, what was she to him, Arya wondered.
"Arya please, listen..." Sansa had tears running down her eyes.
"Sansa is my wife!" Jon said sternly, a statement which shocked Arya to the core.
"What?" Arya shook her head. "No, no, no! This can't be happening. Why?" she cried. "Did you have a reunion and discover you were in love?"
"Arya, please calm down and we'll explain." Sansa begged. "Neither of us wanted this." she said as Jon walked over to the door and slammed it shut.
"I don't want the entire castle hearing this." Jon hissed.
"It looked very much like you both wanted it, and it clearly wasn't the first time, from what conversation I heard." Arya raised an eyebrow. "So is someone going to explain it to me?" she asked
"I think we're going to need some wine, the strong stuff." Sansa sighed. "And lots of it."
"Wine is great for conversations but dulls the senses for sex. So I agree, lets get absolutely pissed, if only to stop you two from fucking each others brains out." Arya grinned and poured out a large cup of wine and drank it straight down in one. She sat down in the chair next to the roaring fire and placed her elbows on the arms of the chair. However the dagger was in the way and despite her arguments with her siblings, nobody was at risk of getting stabbed, yet. So she undid her belt and placed the dagger on the floor next to the fire. She had been desperate to get this dagger to Jon to find out its secrets, but until she had the answer she wanted from them, Arya wasn't going to show him the dagger in the way it needed to be seen.
"Bran forced us into the marriage." Sansa started. "Not intentionally but he left us no choice."
"How?" Arya asked, her stomach dropping, it seemed she wasn't the only one suffering from Bran and his marriage proposals, although Jon would seem the last person she'd expect the King to want his sister to marry.
"Tyrion is here and brought our marriage annulment." Sansa explained. "I heard he was wanting heirs and the Unsullied are on their way to Winterfell to put us under siege. Bran had warned me to stock up on grain. I suspected he was planning on marrying me to a Lord in the south to solidify his reign. But..." Sansa closed her eyes, starting to struggle.
"I couldn't let her fall into the hands of another Joffrey or Ramsey." Jon explained. "We decided to get married but not to consummate it. Tyrion wanted to either force us into consummating it or annulling it. So we did what we had to do for duty. We even had to have witnesses."
"Seven hells." Arya's jaw dropped.
"After the way the bastard raped me, I never thought I would let a man touch me, let alone the though of heirs." Sansa frowned. "But Jon was kind and gentle, and..." she stopped.
"He had the magic touch and gave you a mind-blowing orgasm?" Arya asked softly, beginning to understand. "But more importantly he made you feel safe." Sansa nodded, tears streaming down her face. Arya looked to Jon. "So where does this leave us?" she asked.
"You are my little sister." Jon smiled. "So cut it out with the sex references." he scolded her. "You're too young."
Arya laughed. "I've lost count of how many people I've killed, but I'm too young to know about sex. I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but that innocence also went a long time ago." she grinned.
"Right, I think that's the end of this conversation." Jon grabbed a cup and poured himself some wine. "It's good to see you again. But why have you come here? I thought you were going to find out what is west of Westeros." he asked.
"I went east instead, then when I got back and heard about Drogon, I went looking for you." Arya told him, picking up the dagger and unsheathing it. She handed it to him. "Hold it in the fire, what do you see?" she asked.
Jon frowned but did as she asked. His eyes widened with shock when he saw it glow. "Seven fuckin hells!" he said. "There's something written on it."
"What?" Arya looked at him. "Can you read it?" she asked.
Jon nodded. "I've been learning High Valyrian to control Drogon. I can just about read it." he said.
"What does it say?" Arya asked excitedly.
It says "From my blood come the prince that was promised, and his will be the song of ice and fire." Jon frowned. "Do we know who wrote this?" he asked.
"Aegon the Conqueror." Arya replied.
"Any idea what it means?" Jon asked.
"None whatsoever." Arya shook her head. "But Targaryen's have what are known as dragon dreams, a bit like Bran is a greenseer. I think this comes from one of those dreams."
"You." Sansa looked at Jon. "You are Stark and Targaryen, ice and fire personified. I think Aegon the Conqueror might have been dreaming about you."
