In which our little wolf makes her choice.
*Year 304 After Conquest (AC) - New Future*
Chaos.
If Arya had to choose a word to describe her mind as of this moment, it would be just that. Utter chaos.
Horrible gruesome memories came flashing unwillingly through all her five senses. She hears the noises, the screaming, pleading and shrieking of people through her ears. She smelled the sickeningly sweet metallic stench of blood that assaults her nose, suffocating her breath while tasting everything inside her mouth all at the same time. She sees men tearing at each other's limbs. Her father's head separated from his body and Sansa's holed chest were among them. Their bodies battered and broken almost disfigured beyond all recognition. And she sees her brother, Robb –literally – carrying their house sigil over his shoulder. Blood seeping through the stitches that hold Greywind's head to his body. She feels her skin crawl as it touches upon the decayed and abandoned body of her lady mother, stopping it from drifting further into the river. Every inch of her body trembles as it feels the familiar pain inflicted on her, scarring every part of her limbs, marking her permanently.
She wants all of those memories, dreams, feelings or whatever the hell it is, to be gone. She wants them out of her system. She wants an exit but as hard as she tries to turn it off, she's unable to. And the chaos keeps finding its way back to her head, assaulting her every second. Fatigue slowly begins to creep inside her and she silently begs the power up above for mercy, to stop this maddening torture for if it goes on any longer, she's afraid she might be lost in them forever.
The Gods must have listened somehow because all of a sudden the mayhem of her mind starts to slowly subside. Piece by piece it draws out until all that she hears is her breath and the warmth she feels surrounding her body. It probably lasted longer than Arya intended as she lets herself get lost in the strange peacefulness.
Her entire being had never been this restful but the odd calm passes away as quickly as it came. Slowly, reality grabs a hold of her as she recognizes the sound of a beating heart, loud against her ears. What was even stranger is that it does not belong to her.
Arya forces her mind to attach back to her body. As she gradually gains every part of her limbs again, she automatically winced in response upon the contact at her back. In an instant, whatever that has been touching her back removes itself from her form.
"Arya?"
Before Arya can recognize the owner of the voice that called her, she was pulled away, leaving the temporary serenity. With her terrifying images finally gone, a pair of crystal violet eyes take over her line of view and she stares at them unblinking.
"Are you real?" she croaked. Her voice barely came out as a whisper.
A moment passes before the clear violet orbs glazed over with that of compassion as she replies back. "Yes. I am… as are you."
As the words sink in through Arya's conscious, her mind unwillingly reaches back to reality as she finally recognizes the person in front of her. Daenerys watches as a flicker of emotions swam inside the grey irises of the young woman's eyes.
The grey eyes glanced down towards her painfully sore neck and stayed there for a long time before the young wolf features turn into one of realization and second's later horror. Arya takes a deep breath before she chanced a glance over her shoulder, afraid of what she will find. Her breath caught in her throat as she sees a lump of a body – battered and fragmented – covered in a pool of blood, was lying still not far from her. She realized then that her nightmare was real after all.
I did that. I killed him.
And suddenly she was sick to her stomach not because of his torn flesh or hollow chest but because she was the one who has caused it all. She was dragged away from her stupor as a pair of hands gently turns her shoulder, forcing her to look into the violet eyes of the queen. But, all Arya can see is the disfigured man she killed, planted firmly at the back of her mind.
Daenerys held on as she studies the trembling young wolf in front of her. The grey eyes were lost in her world again and the older woman grips her shoulder tighter, wanting her back. "Arya, you're alright." She tries.
But, the said person is still unresponsive. The silver-haired queen lets go of her hold then only to reach out for the bloodied and bruised face of the lost wolf instead. "Look at me," Daenerys said harder, cradling Arya's face gently.
The grey orbs instantly flickered and focus back to Daenerys.
"You're alright." The older woman tries again. Arya wanted to believe that, but her ghosts seem to have a different idea.
When the warm hands on her face tighten in a comforting manner, and the sea of violet flows through again, her demons scamper, leaving only the warmth and comfort. She lets her vision get lost in the lovely sparkle of violet that assured her of the words that were just spoken.
The dragon queen held on until the young woman's tremble ebb away and her grey eyes relaxed. But, even with those ashen orbs calm, Daenerys can still see a flicker of emotions pass through them.
Scared, disgusted, and despair. And they are all begrudgingly directed at the young woman's own self.
The emotions were so bare that Daenerys felt like she was intruding an intimate moment. And during those vulnerable moments as the wall of Arya Stark crumbles, for once, the silver-haired queen has the strangest feeling and urge of wiping those insecurities away from the young wolf. Before she can act on it, however, heavy footsteps echo along the hallway that connects to her main chamber and soon two Unsullied soldiers emerge.
"Your Grace, wha- " One of the soldiers speak in his common tongue but stops short as he studies silently the state of the room.
Daenerys reluctantly lets Arya go and looks up at them. "Get the healers…Now." She barked at the last word as the two guards made no move to do her bidding.
One of the Unsullied snaps out of it at that and he instantly straightens his body in a salute before rushing out of the room again.
"Are you hurt, Your Grace?" the remaining soldier asked, moving closer. His eyes glanced at the Queen's companion before focusing back on her.
"No, I'm fine," Daenerys said back, dismissing him before continuing. "Find Grey Worm and tell him that the pyramid has been breached. Gather a team and search inside the pyramid and outside where the fleets are. I want anything or anyone that is remotely suspicious apprehended."
"At once, Your Grace." He straightened in a salute and turned around, walking away to do as per instructed.
Daenerys watched until the back of her soldier disappeared before turning around to the young woman again, only to find that her cold mask of indifference was back on. The once vulnerable grey eyes were gone, instead, in its place are the hard steel ones.
Arya looks away instantly as the violet eyes in front of her linger too long for her own liking, studying her inside and out. The young woman scoots away then, uncomfortable by their closeness. She tries to get up but hisses at the pain that assaults all over her body. A hold on her arm prevents her from falling on her face and the young Stark glanced to her side to find Daenerys supporting her as she gets to her feet.
"I'm fine," Arya said stubbornly, earning a glare from the Queen. She straightened herself up then, trying to make a point before brushing the older woman's hold off of her.
Daenerys sighs inwardly as the young wolf proceeds to stride across the room on her own like nothing happened. Taking a last glance over her shoulder at the disfigured assassin, the silver-haired queen follows Arya's trail through the hallway into her main chamber.
"Stay. The healers will be here soon." Daenerys informed. Arya stops and turns around then, facing the Queen in the middle of her chamber. Her mouth opens to say something but it was cut short. "If you're going to say you're fine one more time…" Daenerys threatens. Arya quirked an eyebrow at the older woman's outburst.
"I was going to ask if I can take a seat." She replies instead. The silver-haired queen let out a tired sigh as she closes her eyes then, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Taking that as a yes, Arya lands herself on the nearest seat which is the bottom of the Queen's bed. She would have chosen another alternative, like the chair across the room for instants, but fearing that she would not make it to her destination without embarrassing herself by falling on her face, she plops herself tiredly on the soft mattress instead. A sigh of relief escapes the young Stark as the weight lifts off her weakening feet.
If Daenerys was uncomfortable by the young woman landing herself on her bed so casually, she doesn't make any sound of protest. Instead, she heads for the seat in the corner of the room and flops down on the chair. But before she can even relax, the door to her chamber bursts open causing Daenerys to shoot back up on her own two feet.
Arya would have joined the queen if her body had actually listened to her command. But, seeing that it didn't, the young Stark opted to move the only part of her that she still has control of and looks up at the intruders instead.
Daenerys sighs and gradually relaxes as the three men that she recognizes as the healers bow down in respect to her. The silver-haired queen dismissed them then and explains in brief what had transpired; all the while their eyes were busy darting between the Queen and the young Stark.
The older man of the group walks closer to the Queen then while ordering the other two to attend to the silent form of the young Stark. Taking back the seat from before, Daenerys let the healer attend to her sore neck. She flinched as he smouldered something cold along the sore skin. But, it soon leaves her with a numb feeling, the ache almost gone and suddenly she feels much better.
"Thank you." She said. The older man gave her a slight smile in return.
"The bruise will be gone in less than a fortnight if you apply the salve every night, Your Grace." The healer explained. Daenerys gratefully thanked him again before she dismisses him and sending him to the young woman across the room that needed more than a salve to heal the wounds she gained.
The silver-haired queen watches silently as the three healers swarm around the young Stark, attending to her injuries in an orderly manner. Arya's face shows no inclination that she was in pain – despite the bruising marks gradually appearing on her cheek and nose – except the tenseness of her body and the deep frown on her features.
A sudden creak of the door snaps the older woman out of her observations, as she turns around to face the commander of the Unsullied.
"Your Grace. I came as soon as…" Grey Worm begins, stopping in the middle as he takes in the form of the queen. "You are hurt?" he asked worriedly, moving closer. His accent is still thick to Daenerys ears.
Before the silver-haired queen can answer, another form that of Jorah comes into her view. He, like Grey Worm, asked the very same question. And then, Daario and Missandei decide to join them too bearing the similar inquiry. Daenerys leaves their worried questions unanswered as she waits patiently for the last person. And sure enough, seconds later, Tyrion comes in walking in long strides – as long as his short legs allow – to finally join them.
"I'm perfectly fine," Daenerys answered then, holding up a hand to assure everyone.
"But the blood-" Daario lingers, nudging at the queen's attire that has dried blood on certain parts.
"It's not mine." Daenerys continues.
"Then, who does it belong to?" Jorah asked in concern, taking a step closer then.
"The man that was hired to end my life. He managed to sneak into my private chamber and hide in here, waiting for the opportunity to finish the job. He's in the other room, past the greenery." The silver-haired queen said back.
At her declaration, the others silently share a look of shock among them, before Grey Worm, Jorah and Daario head off to the said room.
"Judging by the amount of blood on your clothes, I suppose we can no longer inquire from the assassin who hired him?" Tyrion guessed. Daenerys hummed in response.
"But, who would want this?" Missandei suddenly voiced out. Daenerys turned to her then.
"I can think of some names, particularly the lords in Westeros. They killed Drogo before and now they're after me." The silver-haired queen answered back.
"We know Robert has spies all over Essos. Word must have gone around that you have an armada filled with armies ready to sail across the narrow sea. And Robert being Robert…he would try anything to secure his kingdom." Tyrion points out.
"And if it weren't for the assassin's hands around my neck instead of his dagger moments ago, the usurper would have had his wish granted. He was close to achieving that." Daenerys bit back, frustrated not at her advisors but at the situation itself.
Both Missandei and Tyrion glanced silently to the Queen's swollen neck in concern, waiting for the fire from the silver-haired queen to subside.
Tyrion shifted his weight uncomfortably before he decided to step closer to Daenerys. "I'm sorry you had to experience this horrible incident, Your Grace. We should have put more soldiers guarding you and securing the pyramid. I should have expected that this kind of attempt on you would be inevitable." He said in remorse before continuing. "But, now that we know he's coming after you, we will be ready. The guards certainly did their best to defend you against the killer. And if we can beat him once, we can do it again and again until Robert has run out of assassin to hire."
Daenerys stared at the mismatch orbs of the Lannister dwarf that shone with both guilt and determination, and let out a small smile at that. She was about to correct him about her defender but someone else beat her to it.
"You would have to try really hard then, for the Faceless Men never relent once a name is given."
Daenerys turned then to the voice and found that Arya remained seated on the same spot on her bed. The healers are at her side, busying themselves packing their equipment back into the bag they carried into the room earlier, clearly finished with their treatment for tonight.
The young Stark looked better although not by much. Her once bloodied face is now clean except for the angry bruises marking her features, particularly on the bridge of her nose. Her clothes still coloured with dirt and dried blood but clean white bandages that wrap her skin stand out from under it stopping at the base of her neck.
"Arya?" Both Missandei and Tyrion call out in surprise as they finally realize the young Stark was present in the chamber.
Shocked to see the state of the young woman, Missandei strides forward in response. "What happened to you?" the former slave asked, worry evident in her voice.
"What is she doing here?" another sound echoes around the room then interrupting the small group.
Four people snap their heads at the direction to find Jorah standing at the hallway's entry. His gaze fixed at the young woman seated on the Queen's bed. Grey Worm and Daario stand at each side wearing a wary look on their faces.
Arya narrows her eyes silently at the knight's tone of addressing her. But before she can defend herself, another has already beaten her to it.
"Arya is the one who saved me from the assassin. I would not be standing here as of this moment if it weren't for her." Daenerys informs, resolutely.
A mix of reactions crossed everyone's features, of shock and worry, and another of amazement. Silence surrounds them as everyone lets the information sink into their system before their gazes focused on the tired and uncomfortable young woman.
"You did that to the killer?" Daario asked with disbelief and awe, pointing at the hallway which he came out from. Arya looked away and left his question unanswered as the gruesome images of what she did to the now extremely disfigured assassin assaulted her mind again.
"What is she doing here in your private chamber in the first place, Khaleesi? She should be in her room, guarded." Jorah points out while closing in on Daenerys. Arya looks up at the man with a glare, annoyed at him talking like she's not present.
"I'm right here in case your eyes have failed you. And to answer your question, I have an important matter to discuss or planned to discuss with the Queen right before that assassin decided to interrupt." The young Stark replied, indignantly.
"Speaking of the assassin, you said something about a Faceless Man?" the dwarf cuts in. He stands in front of the young Stark, blocking her view of anyone else, forcing Arya to focus her attention on him.
"Yes. That man was one of them." She answered tiredly.
"How do you know that?"
Arya was about to open her mouth to answer but she stopped short when she realized her mistake. She can't say that she recognizes the faceless man's way of speech and fighting style since she was one of them herself in another lifetime now, can she?
"It's just a guess." She finally said with a shrug. Tyrion raised an eyebrow at that.
"And how do you happen to make this assumption in the first place? Did the man has any significant marking on him or something?" he tries again. Arya chanced a glance to the others only to find they are all waiting for her to answer.
Damn Tyrion and his persistence. And damn my mouth.
"Maybe…" the young woman trails, shifting her seat uncomfortably. "I heard him whisper something right before he died. He spoke of the wordValar Morghulis. Isn't that something the Faceless Man says?" she lied easily. Tyrion looked away, lost in thought as if he was trying to remember something.
Missandei suddenly straightened. "That phrase would often be associated with the cult of Many-faced God in Braavos. And the traditional response to that word would be Valar Dohaeris, or –"
"All men must serve. Yes. I think I read somewhere about that." The Lannister dwarf continued, confirming the former slave's statement. Arya silently released a sigh of relief as everyone seemed to believe her reason, unaware that a pair of violet orbs were watching her every move silently.
"Well, if Arya is correct and the assassin was indeed a Faceless Man…then I believe we are well and truly fucked!" The half-man suddenly declared dramatically.
"Was it not just moments ago, you assured me that we're going to put an end to every assassin that makes any attempt on me, and kill them all 'until Robert has run out of assassin to hire' they were your exact words." The silver-haired queen spoke up with a raised brow. Tyrion looked up at her with a wry smile and is about to defend himself when Grey Worm decides to interrupt.
"Faceless Man or not, the Unsullied will protect our Queen with our lives." He said to the half-man before focusing on Daenerys. "Forgive me, Your Grace, as I have let this killer come to close to you. We will be as ready as they are when they come the next time, and I am not going to let something like tonight happen again. I will not let them touch you." He assured, clenching his jaw tight. The silver-haired queen's features soften at his remark.
"There is nothing to forgive, Grey Worm. And I never doubt your words or the Unsullied."
Daenerys replies back softly before sending a subtle glare at Tyrion. The dwarf swallowed dryly as he forces a smile, feigning innocent towards the Queen. Daenerys let him be as she focuses on Grey Worm again. "Are the ships safe in the harbour?" she questioned then, wondering if the assassin had tried anything else to sabotage her means of transport.
"Nothing seems out of the ordinary the last time the Unsullied reported. I have sent another group to scour the areas as you instructed." Grey Worm answered.
"Good. Double the patrol, just in case. Can the Seconds Sons be of any aid?" Daenerys directed the last question at Daario.
"I'll have them join the search. That way, we can cover more areas." The man suggested earning an approving nod from the silver-haired queen before someone else decided to speak up.
All the juggling words seem to float around Arya's head as her eyes grow unfocused and heavier by the second. She let the others continue their conversation as she finally gives in to the comfort of closing her eyes. But, it only lasted a moment as she forces her eyes open again at the sound of her name to find a pair of worried brown eyes looking back.
"We should get you back to your room. Can you walk?" Missandei asked. Arya blinks a few times, trying to get her consciousness back. She looks around the room then, to find Daenerys across the room in the corner of the chamber, talking with one of the healers, with Tyrion rooted by her side. Jorah is escorting two Unsullied that carry a stretcher with them into the small hallway between the rooms. There is no Grey Worm and Daario anywhere, and the young Stark wonders how long did she actually let her eyes close for.
Focusing back at the older woman in front of her, Arya remembers her question. "I need to see the Queen first. I have something to say to her." She said back. Missandei pursed her lips in a thin line.
"I'm sure whatever you need to say to her can wait. You need to rest." The former slave said with disapproval.
"I'm fine… I'll just wait here until she's done." Arya said back in defiance. She ignores the exasperated sigh escaping the older woman as her gaze shifted to the silver-haired queen across the room.
Daenerys somehow must have realised she's been watched as she tilts her head to the young Stark in return, with the healer still talking something of importance. A moment passes when Tyrion turns to her as well as the healer. She had the strangest feeling that they were talking about her but she brushes that off and sits straighter as the silver-haired queen decides to dismiss the healer and walks towards her, with Tyrion in tow.
Daenerys glanced at Missandei and raised a questioning gaze as the Naathi seems to have a defeated look on her face. Before she can ask Missandei about it, the young Stark decides to speak up.
"If you have a moment, may I have a word?" Arya asked as soon as the Queen is in hearing range. Daenerys raised a disapproving gaze.
"You need to rest." She stated, repeating what Missandei just told the young wolf moments ago. Arya held in her sigh of frustration.
"I will rest after I've talked to you." She stated firmly. Tyrion moves closer into her view then.
"You know, I'm glad you took my advice and everything… but have you seen yourself in a mirror, Lady Arya? You look like hell, and I'm being generously kind in my choice of words here. I'm surprised you haven't succumbed to the power of that soft, comfortable bed yet… Not that I know how it feels exactly since I've never sat on it before. But, it looks like an extremely soft and comfortable bed." Tyrion mumbles in a long breath, earning an equally amused, questioning and annoyed glare from Missandei, Daenerys and Arya respectively.
Seeing that the young Stark made no action to move, Daenerys finally relented. "Alright, then. What do you want to talk about that it cannot possibly wait until the morrow?"
Arya focuses her gaze back at the silver-haired queen, aware that this is her only chance to speak her mind, without any more disturbances. Clenching her jaw tight, she pushes her body upward to stand on her two feet, leaving the comfort of her temporary refuge. It takes a while for her to find a stable stance with the pain and soreness attacking her every limb – each time she makes a move – but she finally did. The young Stark held her gaze at the violet orbs as she straightened her shoulders then. Her mind searching for the right words to start the conversation.
"I know we had a few differences in opinion about our family before. And I know how much you hate my father for aiding in the rebellion against the crown…" she begins. "As I have come to hate your father too but not for executing my uncle and grandfather that I didn't get the chance to know. But, for the reasons that your father's actions affected mine."
"My father was a cold and grim man although he loved us very much. But, the war broke something in him and I saw it in his eyes every time he thought I was not watching. I saw how sad his dark grey eyes became when he was alone. I saw how tormented he was when he explained why he joined the rebellion. And because of that, I hated the Mad King you called your father and still do." She finished. Daenerys tightened her clasp on her hands while studying the young woman with a slight frown.
"Is this what was so important that you wanted to tell me, Stark? That you hated my father?" the silver-haired queen asked back. Though her tone remains calm, the fire inside her was starting to build up, wondering if the young woman is trying to rile her up intentionally.
Out the corner of her eye, Arya could see that Tyrion and Missandei both uncomfortably shifted their weight as if waiting for the dragon to breathe fire. But, the young wolf ignores that. "No, it's not. I'm telling you that because now, I can look past it all and see you for who you are. I don't know you… that is the truth. But, I know what your people think of you especially what Missandei and Lord Tyrion think of you, and I'm betting all that I have in that…in their beliefs. All I need is for you to do the same for me."
Calculating violet eyes stared into unwavering grey ones. Moments pass which then turns into minutes as Arya waits patiently for the other woman to say something.
"I believe you." Daenerys starts. "I believe you don't have any ill attention towards me. You could have left me to die with that assassin but you didn't. And for that, I owe you my gratitude and my life. I'm aware of what my father's ruling was, albeit too late and I admit that it was hard to acknowledge it. But, I'm not my father as you are not yours." She stated, her composure remained unperturbed.
"Then, I'm asking you not to attack the North. Let my remaining family live in peace."
"That is an entirely different tale, Stark. If they stand in my way of claiming the Iron Throne, then I would have no choice but to treat them the same as any of my enemies."
"They wouldn't do that. They didn't care who sat on the iron chair. The North has always been an independent continent of its own."
"You don't know that for sure. Your family doesn't even know you're alive."
"Yes, I do. As what you called me, I'm a Stark. The northern blood runs through my veins. I was born and raised there and I know how they think. How we think."
Daenerys chanced a glance to her right where Tyrion stood strangely quiet. As he glanced up at her, a slight smile covered his features as if to tell her to consider the young woman's words. But, it takes more than just words to convince the silver-haired queen and she is about to make her point known but before she can the young Stark decides to speak up again.
"That is why; I wanted to make a deal with you." Arya continued. Daenerys tilted her head at the young wolf with a questioning gaze.
"A deal?"
"Yes. Let the North remain as it is. You will not attack the North without reason and swear that you will rule us fairly and honestly. And in return, I will pledge you my loyalty."
Daenerys eyes were unblinking as she stared at determined grey orbs in front of her, trying to make sense of the young woman's words. She chanced a glance at Missandei who also had a slight smile on her face and then to Tyrion who looks up with proud eyes at the young Stark before she decides to do the same.
"Your loyalty?" the Queen asked, wondering if she heard her right. Arya takes a step closer then.
"I know I'm no knight. I don't even own a sword, a dagger or any weapons really… and I might not really have a say in the Northern people or my family when I assured you we do not care for the iron throne - which I still strongly doubt the North want any part in, but if that is the price of our safety, my family's safety, then I would have done this many times over."
Seeing the dumbstruck look on Daenerys face only makes Arya more determined in her decision. She will not make the same mistake again. She will not be the cause of her family's demise. Jon, Mother, Robb, Rickon and Bran are still alive and she's going to make sure they stay that way, one way or another. Even if it meant that she had to kneel to the Dragon Queen.
Arya makes sure that the violet orbs stay with her all the time she gingerly bends down on one knee before she speaks up again. "I, Arya of House Stark offer my services to Daenerys of House Targaryen. I pledge my loyalty to you and I will support your claim as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. I vow to shield your back and keep your counsel until you need no longer of my service. I swear it with my life."
Her voice is strangely loud to her ears as she stares silently to the said person that she just pledged loyalty to. Arya was starting to doubt that her words and vows would mean something to the silver-haired queen as the older woman keeps her gaze down at her, unblinking.
Daenerys was literally stunned into silence as she looks down at the broken and injured wolf in front of her. The dragon queen remembers how much her Hand had pestered her to go and see the young Stark she kept locked up inside the pyramid a few days ago, insisting that the young woman had something important to say. The silver-haired queen had tried her best not to do that, afraid of what Arya had in mind. Seeing that their last meeting ended with a dagger planted between her feet and the young wolf imprisoned, Daenerys had a premonition that their second meeting would be absolutely disastrous. And she was right in a way when both their lives are hanging by a thread because of a certain Faceless Man. Even later, when Arya stated that she wanted to strike a deal, Daenerys would have never thought that she was going to offer her service willingly. But, it was not without a reason. The youngest daughter of Ned Stark pledged her loyalty to the dragon queen in return that her family and the North would not be harmed. Such love and sacrifice from the young wolf had left Daenerys with a strange feeling of envy. And truth be told, the dragon queen could not come up with any reason to not accept the young woman's pledge.
The sound of someone clearing his throat loudly and intentionally snaps Daenerys out of her thinking. She glanced to her side in response to find Tyrion tilting his head pointing ahead of her.
Daenerys turns away in the intended direction to find Arya is still waiting patiently for her answers. Seeing the resolute and hopeful look crossing the young woman's features only strengthens the Queen's next choice of words.
"And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. I will not ask any services that would bring you dishonour and I will not force my army to the North without any reason to do so. And I pledge to rule the people of Westeros fairly and with honesty. I swear it with my life." Daenerys finally replies.
The young wolf let out a breath she didn't know she'd held and pushed past the pain to stand up on her own two feet again, swaying slightly before she straightened herself successfully. As she studies the pair of violet orbs that are still intently seeking hers, Arya can't help but wonder what her choices will lead her to, this time.