In which realization comes apart and secrets are shared
*Year 304 After Conquest (AC) - New Future*
Under the high cloud that whitens the night-hour, the ship would sometimes sway along the calm waves. Its anchor is at the bottom of the ocean, holding it in place without drifting away. Arya sucks in the salty air, relishing the open sea as she sat on the highest part of the vessel, in the crow's nest. This has become her favourite spot since she sets sail along the Targaryen Queen a week ago. The space is fitted of two people at most, with wooden railing surrounds for safety. Regardless, it is perfect enough for the young Stark to lie down and make herself comfortable. She prefers the stars that shine bright over her head and the chill air assaulting her body than the wooden ceilings and stuffy air of her intended cabin.
And within that one week, the young Stark has used the time to recover fully from her last injuries. The once bluish-purple bruises on her ribs and face are almost gone now leaving only a yellowish colour that soon will be matching her skin tone, leaving no trace behind. But, the scars she gained from the past years living in Qazlas pit at her back and other parts of her body still remained. Those marks will never go away as long as she lived in this lifetime.
Arya closes her eyes then, willing herself to slumber in this strangely comforting space. The gush of wind and the occasional waves hitting the bottom deck becomes her lullaby. But, her mind remains awake and her eyes shot back open to the dark sky in frustration. She blows a sigh and groans loudly, aware that no one will hear her in this ungodly hour anyway. It seems that she will get no sleep tonight either.
The young woman raises her hand towards the night sky, leisurely creating an illusion that she can touch the vast clouds and the burning stars. And as always, when her sleep won't come, her thoughts would accompany her until the sun decides to take its place.
She thinks about a lot of things since that is all she can do at the moment. She thinks of her family. Of Jon and Robb. Of Mother and Rickon. I wonder if they can see the same stars in Winterfell as I see them right now.
Of Father and Sansa. If they are somewhere up there along with the stars and moon, in the heavens. Does it even exist, the heavens?
Of Bran. Wondering if he's finding his way back home too as she is.
And of Daenerys. The Targaryen Queen that she had pledged her loyalty to.
Arya has not seen the silver-haired queen since she steps onto this ship. The first time the young wolf had a visitor in her cabin, it was Missandei. The Naathi had come to check up on the young Stark and had strictly instructed that Arya to properly heal before she can move around the ship. And of course, the young Stark had disagreed.
"I'm not delicate, Missandei." Arya had quipped earning a disapproving gaze from the older woman.
But, when Missandei had answered back using the Queen's name, Arya pursed her lips in a thin line. She doesn't know exactly how to offer her service towards Daenerys when she pledges so. But, she presumes being disobedient at the Queen's order was not a way to start. Besides, it does not affect Arya badly in any way. So, she relented and agreed at being tended to until her health fully recovered. Arya can still remember the smug smile Missandei wore after that, as she walked out of the young Stark's cabin. Remembering that now, the young Stark can't help as a chuckle lightly escapes. It was strange how Missandei seems to genuinely care for her while being annoyingly the same. Arya decides that she can get used to that. At least the Naathi is easy to read.
Unlike a certain older woman who mothered three grown dragons and has probably nearly thousands of soldiers – probably more – at her back. Arya reckons the dragon queen has more since the other ships that sail along the current ship she is in right now are as wide as her eyes can see on the vast ocean. And the thought that all of these people are going to Westeros, to her home, to start a war makes her shudder.
To top it all off, she has sworn loyalty to the person who owns all of these soldiers. She's not certain of what Daenerys expects from her service. Will the queen demands her to fight along once the battle occurs? Will she demands information about Westeros? Or of the North? Arya let out another sigh. She has no idea what the silver-haired queen's plans are to conquer Westeros.
Her train of thoughts was interrupted as a massive winged shadow flew past her line of sight among the starry skies. Grey irises automatically focus on the sudden intrusion. As she slowly stands on her two feet again, looking up, the winged shadow grows clearer and Arya's breath instantly caught in her throat.
Drogon.
Even though she has seen Drogon before in Qazlas Pit, she can only vaguely remember what it looks like, with her on the verge of being unconscious a few moments later. Now though was a different story. She can clearly see and studies Drogon's scales, shining as it reflects from the moon's light. Its scales are darker than the night skies if that was even possible and once in a while as it stretches its wings, the red would sometimes glimmer.
Arya didn't even realize she was smiling as she cranes her neck up at the beautiful beast. She didn't know why she did the next thing either as she raised her palms to her mouth and shout. "Hey! Drogon!"
It was a stupid thing really, calling a dragon as if it was some kind of trained dog. And she managed a crooked smile as she chuckles at the possibility of Drogon listening to her call. She watched as the winged beast circle leisurely up the skies as if it was entertaining itself somehow. She decides to entertain herself too then.
"Drogon! I'm Arya!" she shouts again. Gasping another breath, she continues. "I rode you once! With Daenerys! Do you rememb-"
Her words got stuck in her throat at the change of sound in air. She swallows a lump dryly as the said dragon turns to her. Its red eyes focus down to the ship, specifically towards the young Stark as it changed its course towards her.
"Oh, shit…" she murmurs absentmindedly as Drogon flies downwards towards the crow nest she is at.
It only takes a moment for Drogon to lower itself so it was the same eye level with the little wolf. The gust of wind that comes from its wings as it hovers above the ship almost knocked her out of the crow nest if not for the railing and her tight grip on them.
If Arya thought that the beast was beautiful before, now it would be an understatement so much that she doesn't know what to call the magnificent creature. Its eyes which are not exactly red but orange-red like the sunset are staring straight at her and its hot breath brings warmth to her face and for a flickering moment, the young Stark worries that it will breathe fire. But, the feeling soon drowned with her being too awestruck and mesmerized by the black-red dragon.
Unconsciously, she raised an arm towards its open jaw. A low guttural sound similar to a growl escapes from Drogon at the advance. But, the little wolf doesn't seem to care if it decides to bite her arm off or worse, burn her alive. She can't help herself and she realizes she was still smiling all this while. It was only a hairbreadth until her hand could reach the dragon's scales, but before she can feel it under her skin, Drogon release a huff of breath and pull its head away, forcing its wings to fly him upwards again. Before long, it was already gone, flying away from the vessel leaving the young Stark all alone.
She let out a breath she doesn't know she held as she watches Drogon flew off. A small smile is still tugging at the corner of her lips as she savours the moment with the breathtakingly beautiful creature.
Just like your mother. She thought.
*
When the sun decides to show itself and the ships start to sail again towards their intended course, Arya decides to finally pay the dragon queen a visit. After all, her injuries are almost healed now and she felt better than the first day they set sail. The fact that she remains unscathed after her encounters with Drogon only elevates her good mood.
Two Dothraki men come into view as she strides along the narrow hallway inside the vessel. She stops near them and the closed cabin door. Both men immediately turn to her, eyeing her up and down suspiciously while one of their hands grip to the arakhs at their side.
"I'm Arya Stark." She starts. But both men only stare back silently. "I'm here to see the Khaleesi." She tries again.
At the last word, recognition sparks in their eyes and one of the men step up signalling he's going to search her. Found nothing, he gave a curt nod at her, allowing her to pass which she replied the same in return. Seeing that the Faceless Man is still actively pursuing the dragon queen, Arya expects nothing less from the royal guards.
She knocks on the wooden door and steps inside after hearing a voice telling her to do so. Two set of eyes inside the cabin instantly land to the newest addition.
"I didn't know you had company. I can come back later." Arya speaks up as she looks at Missandei and then at Daenerys who is sitting behind the desk.
Daenerys eyes linger for a while on the young Stark before she straightens herself. "No, it's fine. I was just signing off these letters." She answered. Arya strides closer then, standing in front of the small table that scatters with parchments as Missandei stands close between them. The Naathi is holding some more parchment in her hands and Arya wonders what content they hold. Before she can take a peek at those letters scattered on the table, a voice demands her attention.
"You look better," Missandei said with a slight smile. Arya turns to the older woman with the same reaction.
"Thank you. I feel better too."
"That's good to hear. See? Are you not glad that you listened to me?"
Arya held her eye roll at the comment as she hummed a sarcastic reply. A small smile still plastered on her face. "Indeed... I don't know what I would do without you."
Missandei throws a knowing smirk at the young woman admission, pleased with herself.
Daenerys silently watch the exchange between her advisor and the young Stark. It was a rare sight to see Arya being comfortable with other people. She guesses the Naathi had that effect on people around her. And Missandei was right, the young woman did look better. The bruise on Arya's broken nose is gone now and Daenerys is grateful that the young woman's features didn't seem to be disfigured or flawed in any way. She didn't realize she was staring rather openly at the young Stark until her grey orbs turn to her own. Daenerys compose herself in a matter of seconds.
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this early morning?" she asked.
Arya let her eyes trails to Daenerys features for a while. She noticed the slight bags under her eyes and wonders what caused the older woman sleepless nights. Remembering that the dragon queen asked her something, Arya clears her throat and focus on violet orbs again. "Well, I already pledge myself to you and offer you my service." She started.
"Yes, I am aware," Daenerys said back with a raised brow and waited.
"I don't know how this thing works, but aren't you supposed to assign me to do something?" Arya asked back uncertainly. Daenerys leans backwards to her chair as she regards the young Stark.
"You mean like fetching my meal, bringing my bath and the like?" the dragon queen asked with a straight face, trying hard to conceal her amusement. Arya blinks a few times at that.
"Yes… I guess so. But, don't you already have handmaiden for that? And Missandei too." The young Stark replies evenly though her tone stills held some uncertainties. Daenerys brows arched perfectly upwards at the young woman's remark.
"Did you just assume that Missandei is my handmaiden, Stark?"
Arya opens her mouth to answer but closes back as she glances towards Missandei who is strangely quiet and currently shooting daggers through her brown eyes. The Naathi looks at her in a serious expression as if she was offended by her earlier remark calling her a handmaiden. She snaps her attention back at the dragon queen who is still waiting for an answer.
"No, of course not. I mean… aren't you?" she answers hurriedly and turns to Missandei at the last question with a frown.
Daenerys let out a grin as Arya's focus shifts to the Naathi who is trying hard to look displeased at the young Stark that the dragon queen almost believes that Missandei actually is. Daenerys decides to save her friend the trouble of answering as she signs off the last parchment quickly and hands it over.
"Thank you, Missandei." She offered which the Naathi gladly took and put it along with the letters she already held and take that as her sign to leave.
"Your Grace," Missandei said back with a nod, ignoring the confused little wolf. She held back her grin until after she steps outside the cabin, shutting the door behind her.
Arya follows Missandei's every movement with an exasperated look, not knowing what had just transpired, unaware that the two older women are playing her. The young Stark snaps her attention back at Daenerys.
"Why is she angry? Did I say something that offends her? I mean what's wrong with being a handmaiden anyway?" Arya asked continuously. The dragon queen reaches for the jar of wine on her table then.
"Nothing's wrong at all with being a handmaiden," Daenerys answered, pouring the wine to her goblet. She looks up at confused grey orbs and finally let out a small smile that threatening to escape since before. It was a surprise that the young woman standing in front of her can be so innocent and endearing when Daenerys knew what the little wolf is capable of.
Arya blinks hard at seeing the change in the dragon queen's features, as she comes to a realization that they were just playing her. She narrows her eyes at the older woman then, not feeling at all amused by their trick. Even more, that she fell for it.
"Though I assure you, Missandei is more than just my handmaiden. She's my advisor and a close friend." Daenerys continues, unperturbed by the wolf's glares. "Wine?" she offered with a slight smile.
Arya straightens her back then. "Is it not a bit early for that, Your Grace?" she asked with a raised brow.
"It's never too early for a cup of wine," Daenerys replies evenly.
"It seems that you've been spending too much time with Tyrion."
"He is my Hand."
Arya gave a slight nod at the statement and say nothing else. Silence surrounds them for a moment as Daenerys takes a sip of her wine while studying the young Stark whose grey eyes are busy studying the cabin instead.
"Now, where were we again?" Daenerys starts. Arya instantly focuses back at the older woman.
"The topic of my service." She offered.
"Ah, yes. I'm guessing that you came here with something in mind." The dragon queen challenge.
Arya swallows dryly as Daenerys is right with her guess. The only problem that if it didn't go as Arya planned, it would be because the older woman is not convinced enough that Arya could do what she claimed. She decides to get on with it.
"I swore to shield and protect your back, so I think it's only fitting that I'd be your personal guard." The young Stark offered confidently. Seeing that Daenerys only stares back at her silently though, the confidence swayed a little. Arya shifts her weight and continues. "You know, like a royal guard?"
"You would do that? Become one of my protectors and ready to fight when necessary?" Daenerys asked back with a straight face.
"Have you heard of the saying; 'The North remembers', Your Grace?" Arya suddenly asked, not really expecting an answer as she continues. "It means we Northerners never forget anything…be it an oath, our roots and even betrayal. And I did promise that I would offer you my service in any way. So, yes, if needs be, I would do just that. It's what I'm good at." she finished evenly.
Daenerys doesn't deny that as the memories of the young Stark fighting the Faceless Man come uninvited. She leans forward then and clasps her hands together, resting them on the table. "Ser Barristan Selmy was once my advisor and Queensguard back in Meereen. And he had the privilege to serve the crown prince, Rhaegar before the rebellion of course. He said that my brother was good with his sword and fighting in general. But, Rhaegar never liked it one bit. What he really enjoyed was actually singing… though I can't personally say if he's actually good at it." Daenerys stated fondly before she focuses on the confusing grey orbs once more.
"So Arya, I want you to be honest and tell me…do you like to fight so much that you're offering yourself to be my Queensguard?" she finally asked even though she can guess the answer to that, given the state the young Stark was in after defeating the assassin is any indication. Daenerys can still remember the hollowness of those grey orbs as they got lost in its own nightmare and how Arya's tremble ebb away only after the dragon queen soothed it out from the young woman.
Arya blinks hard at the unexpected question and at the queen calling her on first-name basis. She shrugs off the latter and thought about the former. Of course, she didn't like fighting. All her life, in this timeline and the previous one, all she ever did was just that, if not for her survival and vengeance then for the entertainment of others. Violence is a part of her now and she hated it. She stares back at the calm violet orbs in front of her and decides to speak up the truth. "No, I don't like to fight… But, it's what I do and what I have always been doing. Besides, I don't know what else I can offer to you other than that."
Daenerys let out a gentle smile. "I have enough protection as it is. And correct me if I'm wrong but you also swore that you'll keep me counsel."
"Well… yes. I did."
"So, you can tell me everything there is in the North that Tyrion can't tell me. The tale that only a Northerner like yourself know of." Daenerys offered. Arya didn't know how to answer to that – still dazed by the unexpected turn of events – so she gives the dragon queen a nod instead, agreeing to the suggestion.
Daenerys let out a triumphant smile as she takes another sip of her wine.
*
And counsel she did. Sometimes it would be over tea, books, and even board games as Arya sat opposite the silver-haired queen. Daenerys was the one who mostly did the asking and Arya would answer them as best as she can. Their topics of conversation would be mainly about the North as the dragon queen suggested. Be it their culture, the people and the landmarks there.
But, lately, it has strayed to become even more personal, at least for Arya. Daenerys seems to be interested in her family and Winterfell in general. It was subtle as the dragon queen changes their topic from "Where would be the most dangerous forest and mountains in the northwest?" to suddenly one of;
"Are you and your siblings close?"
"Yes." Arya had answered after a moment of regaining herself.
"That's nice," Daenerys said back as a small smile grace her features. Arya realized the dragon queen had been doing that much lately with their session together, though this smile held certain sadness to it. And it was proved right when Daenerys continues, "Viserys and I are not. He always has a say to everything I did and wanted." She finished with a faraway look.
Arya can see there is still some unspoken things lingering in those violet orbs and she imagines it was nothing fondly. She decides to steer the conversation away from the older woman's seemingly bad memories and spoke. "I guess older siblings are the same in every part of the world." She commented and continued as those sad orbs focus on her again.
"Sansa and I always fight and truthfully all I remembered of her now were those of our quarrels. One time, she annoyed me over something… I don't quite remember about what… but I remembered feeling angry about it. So, I went to the kennel and grab a pile of horses' or dogs' dung with me… I really can't tell since they all look the same. After that, I sneak into her room and tear apart her bed, filling them with horse shit before I sew them shut again."
Daenerys eyes are wide as she heard the tale. "Oh, no…tell me you didn't…" she trails unbelieving. Arya grin at that.
"Oh, yes…I did." She replied. "It was days when Sansa finally realized where the source of the smell was coming from. And I take pleasure in knowing that she slept on horse shit for a night or two." Arya finished and let out a proud smile. Daenerys looks at the young woman as her grey eyes glistened with playfulness Daenerys had yet seen. A chuckle escapes her but it soon turns to a full laugh.
The dragon queen clamps her own mouth instinctively, surprised at her own sound as she clears her throat. But, the tale Arya told was still playing inside her mind and she imagined if Viserys was the one at the end of it instead. The dragon queen can't help herself as another laugh threatens to escape. The smug look Arya gave her didn't help either. An unladylike snort instead escapes Daenerys' lips making both of them laugh at the ridiculous sound.
Arya let out a chuckle as the memories of her time with Daenerys comes flashing back. It was nice when they talked. When there is nothing to be concerned about. No family name to consider, no country to conquer and no worry for the future in this new timeline. It's just them, talking. And for a while, in those strange moments of an hour or two, Arya found peace as she escapes the madness called life. She decides serving Daenerys Targaryen could be good for her.
She was brought out of her trance when a loud cheer echoes along the lower deck she's currently at, where the meal is served for the soldiers. A group of ironborn is hurdled around in a circle at the provided table and seats, talking loudly among themselves. Arya shoves a mouthful of fish stew then, focusing on the men seated across from her.
"…she has the best pair of teats I tell ya. Karol, her name is. She has long black hair that goes until her bottom. Big brown eyes and nice teeth. Oh, what I would give to have her by my bed tonight," one of the men said.
"Well I don't know 'bout her teats, but if yer desperate enough…ya can use ma ass an' squeeze it all ya want." Another replied provocatively,
Laughs escape the others, disrupting any peace in the area.
"Fuck off!" the older man shouts against all noise and throws his empty cup at the said man who's literally offering his ass, as he stands up and flashes his white hairy bottom to his friend's face.
Arya rolls her eyes at the scene as she looks down to her food again, tuning out the rest of the ironborn's conversation. She tried to continue her meal but realized she had lost her appetite after the gross displayed from the man across her. Wasting food is never a choice especially when every single person on this ship are on a ration, in keeping tab of their supply. So, she forced the fish stew down her throat anyway and gulp her ale last as she finally finished her meal.
I should have listened to Missandei and eat in my cabin instead. Arya thought begrudgingly as she swipes her mouth clean with her sleeve.
She walks past the men to hand over her empty bowl and cup at the small counter that separates the dining area from the kitchen. Another man from the kitchen side gladly takes them from her with a grunt before turning and walking out of view.
Arya knew something was wrong the moment the lower deck becomes strangely quiet. Her senses are on high alert as she knows she had become the group of men's attention now. It was proved right when that familiar voice sounded again.
"Yer the She-wolf of Winterfell, aren't ya?" he asked. Arya turns around then and sure enough, all eyes are on her.
"Who's asking?" she asked back, putting her cold mask on. Though she hated that nickname, it seems she will be hearing it for a while still.
The man leans back to his chair as he regards her up and down openly, though Arya is sure that the other men are doing much the same. "They say ya eat men in the fightin' pit…after ya tear 'em apart like a rabid wolf." He stated, confident that the young woman is in fact who he said.
Arya raised an eyebrow at the nonsense remark. She would love to meet whoever is spreading that kind of rumours about her. Before she can reply, however, another man beats her to it.
"I doubt that. Look at 'er! All bones and no meat. A scrawny little wolf I'd believe." He japes. Laughs erupted at the words.
Arya takes a step closer then. "Better than having a fat hairy ass like yours." She retaliates with a straight face. The others seem taken aback by her statement, not expecting the young woman to jape back before they burst into another laugh.
But, the said man who had become the amusement of others only let out a chuckle as he stands up and strides towards her. "Oh, yer been staring at ma ass now, girl?" he asked, exposing his rotten smile.
"It's really hard to miss when you flashed it to the whole world to see. I'm surprised you can still walk carrying those bums. I imagined it'd be heavy." She deadpanned, earning another round of laughs from their spectators.
Another disbelief chuckle escapes the man as he stares at the little wolf, loss of words.
"I bet the she-wolf can beat ya in a fight." One of the men suddenly speaks.
"Aye, she already won in this fight of wits. I reckon she'd kick his fat hairy ass in anythin' else." Another joins as the others burst into a fit of laughs again.
"Oi! Shut yer hole. I ain't lost nothin' yet." He retaliates as he faced his comrades. When the men settle down, he turns around to the young woman again. "Alright then, she-wolf… I challenge ya to a match." He offers with a smug smile.
Arya tilts her head to the side, faking innocent. "Oh, I don't know. I don't fight anymore…trying to retire from the sport. You know, it's bad for my scrawny bones and all."
"Not that kind of match. What ya take me for? I don't hurt little girls."
"I'm not little," Arya said, glaring.
The man ignores it and continues. "I 'av sometin' in mind if yer up for it."
Arya studies the man in front of her and found no ill will from him. In fact, he only looked enthusiastic and eager. A slight smile creeps at the corner of her mouth as she decides to go along with it. After all, what's the worst that could happen anyway?
*
One thing led to another as Arya follows the man – who goes by the name Derwin – to the upper deck of the ship. The group of other ironmen are trailing close behind them. The said match turns out to be a race, where the first person to untie the sail from its leech wins. Since the vessel has been put on berth for the time being, its sails were rolled up so the wind would not be caught. To make it more interesting, Derwin suggested that instead of cutting the rope that holds the sails securely at the floor of the deck, they would have to climb up the spar and untied it from above the sails head instead.
Arya cranes her neck upwards as the crow's nest where her favourite hideout was, is situated just slightly above the spars and the sails that she would climb later. This would be easy enough for her as she already knew her way up there. She only needs to use the arrangements of ropes that are aligned conveniently to the spars where then it would lead her to the closed sails. Only, this time she needs to climb them faster.
"Yer havin' second thoughts, wolf girl?" a voice interrupts her. Arya looks to her side to find her opponent, Derwin grinning.
"I'm just worried about you. How are you going to carry those bums up there?" she answered in mock concern.
"Oh, don't ya worry 'bout me… I'll show ya how this fat hairy ass goin' to beat yer scrawny little one in a minute." He retaliates. Arya let out a small smile as she tilts her head to him.
The sound of a building crowd snaps their attention away from each other and men are starting to fill the deck. The Ironborn and the Dothraki alike are standing around her and Derwin like they are waiting for a show. Only the Unsullied are nowhere to be seen. She turns her attention back to the man with a questioning look which he gave a shrug instead. Somehow, almost the entire occupant in the vessel knows of this little race and decides to come and see. She remembered how Daenerys had requested her not to attract any unwanted attention for her own safety. Arya reckons sailing in the same vessel with the men and soldiers from different background and culture might cause the older woman's worry and Arya had, of course, complied then for both their sake.
Well, so much for laying low, now.
The gradually cheering and shouting reminds the young Stark so much of when she was in Qazlas Pit. But, somehow it didn't bother her like she thought it would. The fact that she's doing this willingly probably is among the reasons. Besides, she hasn't felt this kind of excitement in a long time. She remembered that Bran used to challenge her in climbing all the time back in Winterfell and how he would always win against her.
"Here ya go…" a voice cuts in, making Arya snaps back to reality as Derwin's face comes into view. "The knife for cuttin' the rope of the sails. Ya need to 'ave the sail fully untied an' spread…it meant nothin' if ya reach up there first." He explains the last rule while handing her a small dagger.
Arya takes the dagger and gives him a pointed look. "You have a lot of requirements for a simple race like this one. Is there any more you care to add?"
Derwin takes a step closer then. "Aye, only one… when I win, I want ya to admit that I 'av a beautiful an' fine ass. An' maybe I'll show ya more aft." He answered with a flirtatious smile. Arya tries very hard schooling her features to indifference.
"That's a very good offer... A shame that I will never get to see more when I win this." She replied, faking her disappointment. Derwin chuckles lightly.
Just then, out of the corner of her eyes, she can see movements from the crowd. Turning to the direction, she realizes that the murmurs of the men have quietened down and the crowd are parting ways as if they're allowing a passage for someone to get through. And surely enough, a moment later, a group of people emerges from the crowd. The silver hair caught her eyes first and the violet eyes soon after.
Daenerys strides to the middle where she was standing and Arya thought she can see a flicker of worry and anger in her shining orbs. Judging by the setting they are in right now, Arya can guess that the dragon queen probably thought something bad is about to happen. Missandei, Tyrion and even Jorah are wearing similar expression, except for one woman who dresses like the ironmen. The only difference is she wears a long coat over her shoulder and her demeanour screams authority much like the dragon queen. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties, lean and long-legged, with dark eyes and black hair cut short.
"Harlow." The said woman speaks up first as she gives Derwin a pointed look. "I know someday your potty mouth would get you in trouble…but does it have to be today of all day?"
"We just havin' a friendly race 'ere, Captain," Derwin said in protest. Arya focused on the supposed woman that the man just called 'captain'. She knows the ship that she's in right now is called Black Wind, captained by Yara Greyjoy, Theon's sister, the supposedly rightful ruler of the Iron Islands and Daenerys' ally.
"The wolf girl called me fat an' I'm tryin' to–"
"Ass… I called your ass fat. There's a difference." Arya corrected. Derwin let out a huff.
"Ya 'ear that, Captain? She mocks ma most wonderful asset. So, I'm just goin' to win this race and make 'er take 'er words back."
Arya tries very hard not to roll her eyes at the statement, but all gazes are on her as they gave her a judgemental look. "He called me scrawny first." She blurts out in defence.
"This race of yours… has a need for knives?" Daenerys finally decides to speak up. Her eyes glued to the young Stark and then to the small dagger in Arya's left hand.
"It's for cutting the rope that binds the sail," Arya replies with a slight shrug as if that explains everything. A frown graces Daenerys features as she tries to connect the information.
Derwin decides to interrupt then. "Wer' racin' towards the top. The first who set the sails free, win." He explains, pointing upward at the folded sails.
Daenerys turns to him, letting his words sink before she gave a short mirthless chuckle. "You're meant to say that you're going to climb up there?"
"Aye, Your Grace."
At the confirmation, Daenerys turns to Arya who only stares back like none of those bothers her.
"Wow…that's a long way up and also a long way down." Tyrion joins in as he cranes his neck up. "And what would you say… a fall of this height do to you?" he asked, voicing the concern that Daenerys held.
"Oh, I wouldn't know m'lord… I've never fallen off before." Derwin answered with a shrug before giving it a thought and continues. "Probably a broken leg or an arm or maybe both…worse of all, mayhaps a broken neck. But, don't ya worry… I know ma way up and down the mast as any Ironborn would… only better." He assured with a grin.
Daenerys turns to the young Stark then with a pointed look.
"I'm a good climber," Arya answered as if she knows the dragon queen's unspoken concern.
Daenerys let out a soft sigh as it did nothing to ease her worry. "When I asked you not to draw any attention until we get to Westeros… well, being in some kind of a race that is highly life-threatening and making the whole crew watch that said race…is certainly the opposite of not drawing any attention, wouldn't you agree?" she asks sarcastically, gesturing to the growing mass that surrounds them.
"In my defence, Your Grace…they already know who I was," Arya answered calmly. "And I don't know how the others knew of this race. They just came, seemingly out of nowhere and make themselves comfortable." She finished with a shrug. Daenerys opens her mouth before closing it back frustratedly.
"Words do travel fast especially in a confined vessel," Yara commented.
"Aye, captain… but not nearly as fast as I'm about to, in a while." Derwin said with a smug smile. Arya turns to him then.
"You're a talker…if only you put the same work for your ass, maybe it wouldn't get so big and plump." She answered with a straight face. Derwin scoffed before retaliates with another remark.
Daenerys tunes out the words as she studies the young Stark in front of her who seems to enjoy herself responding to the man with her own dark humour. When they decide to excuse themselves to get ready for the said race, Daenerys let them go but not without sending a warning glare at the young Stark, making sure Arya knows just how much she disapproved of it, though it doesn't seem enough to stop the young woman from participating in the race anyway.
"I bet fifty gold dragons that Arya will win." Tyrion suddenly declares. Yara turns to the dwarf and lets out an amused smile.
"You're going to lose that money, Lord Tyrion. I have you know that Ironmen are natural climber…especially inside ships and vessel alike. And Derwin Harlow is a fine climber as he claimed to be." She stated.
"Which is why I'm betting on Arya… One of the rules of betting is you should always go against the obvious win." Tyrion answered with a smirk.
"That is the worst advice I've ever heard… I'll bet a hundred gold dragons for Harlow to show you that." Yara said again confidently as she crosses her arms below her chest.
A smile creeps at the corner of Tyrion's mouth. "Oh, this is going to be fun. Jorah, care to join in this bet?" he asked, turning to the said man.
"A hundred gold dragons for the man," Jorah answered without a second doubt.
Tyrion's smile widens as he imagined the money he'll win later if the luck is on his side. "How about you, Missandei?" he asked expectantly. Missandei let out a frown.
"The practice of risking money or valued items against someone else's unpredictable outcome is not something I enjoyed doing. And what more is that I don't feel comfortable gaining profit against other's misfortune." The Naathi explains in length.
"Alright then… you know… a simple 'no' would suffice." Tyrion commented dryly before he turns to the dragon queen last.
His smile fell completely at the sharp glare from the violet orbs. He clears his throat and forces the smile back up. "I'm guessing you don't want to bet too?" he tried pathetically. Daenerys' glares only intensified.
Tyrion shifts his weight uncomfortably then. "Your Grace, I'm sure Arya would be just fine." He tries again. "Honestly, we already know how much of a wildcard she's going to be…and given her previous experience I think she knows how to take care of herself." He finished with what the dragon queen assumed a comforting smile.
Daenerys had nothing to say to that as she knows what Tyrion said is true. But, the fact that it doesn't comfort her in any way is starting to worry her. She should not – could not have this protective feeling towards the young Stark. It baffles her that her feelings are this strong. Perhaps their little session has wormed Arya in unexpectedly to her soft spot. Or perhaps Daenerys knew how valuable Arya is to her success in ruling the seven kingdoms. And losing the young Stark now would be a catastrophe. Daenerys decides she prefers the latter. That would make much more sense.
The crowd cheering brought all their attention towards the centre of the ships. Arya and Harlow are standing there, their back against each other, ready to run the opposite sides, where the two masts that hold the sails are.
Daenerys notices that the young woman has gone barefoot and her trousers hung loosely. She made a mental note to find Arya a more comfortable and more fitted one later. The voice of someone counting down breaks apart the crowd's loud murmurs then and suddenly the upper deck has become quiet except for their breaths and the countdown. Arya had placed the small dagger conveniently between her closed lips before she sprints off at a horn's blow. And then, the noise falls back like waves crashing the shore, cheering both competitors.
Both of them had run off to the opposite side in incredible speeds and Daenerys decides to focus on the left side of the vessel, where Arya is starting to climb up the ropes that are situated at the side of the vessel. She was using all four limbs to her advantages with the blade still secured between her lips. It seems that the young Stark had no trouble at all with those ropes and she seems to know her way through as if she had done this many times before.
With the second goes by, the higher Daenerys has to tilt her head to watch where Arya is going. The young woman hops on to a spar before moving on to another level of ropes that connects to the centre of the pillar. There, she starts to thread on more carefully on the shrouds that are holding the mast. Her speed slowed down as she holds the angled shrouds and uses them as a ladder to advance towards the head of the sail. And all the while, all Daenerys can do is pray that the young woman doesn't miss a step and fall, for if she did, the dragon queen is sure that Arya would break her neck at this height.
It all happens so fast when Daenerys realizes that Arya had safely arrived at the topsail. The young Stark crouches along the horizontal pillar that binds the sail as she takes a breath and cut the first rope free. Arya then stands up and walks with such balance – as if she's walking on the ground – that Daenerys is again, amazed at what the young woman is capable of. The sail seems to be taking in a form slowly as the young woman cut off another and then another binding.
Daenerys watches dutifully as Arya hastens her steps then towards the opposite pillar and crouch down to cut the remaining ropes off. With the last bind breaks free, the sail rolls down gradually until a red three-headed dragon, on a black field emerged. It ripples and billows from the wind with glory. The crowd grew wilder and Tyrion besides her is shouting with excitement though Daenerys can hear the same flapping sound of the sail from the other side the same time Arya has freed hers. If the dragon queen were to guess, both of them seem to have a tie. But, the fact is that Daenerys doesn't care about the result of the race at all. Her violet orbs seem to have glued to the silhouette of one that is Arya Stark and little by little, the noise from the deck get swallowed down and becomes unimportant.
The young woman is standing up the topsail, with her arm reaching for the nearby rope to balance herself. A few strands of her dark hair come loose and assaults her long stern face but the wind makes clear of it, revealing her, smiling.
And it was the first time Daenerys sees how honest and innocent Arya's smile was. The way the young woman's lips lifted upward, the way her teeth are perfectly aligned, the way her eyes narrow in slits. The warm glow her happiness gives. It was like the sun opened its eager light to shine about her.
And then the young Stark looks down. Her grey eyes immediately found one of Daenerys' own and Arya lets her smile widen into a brilliant grin. For a few moments, the dragon queen only stared back, dumbstruck. There was something about her smile that makes butterflies seemed to escape from the pit of Daenerys' stomach and the way the sun had somehow toppled down from the sky and made a home right there in her heart, where that unexpected warmth rushes through her. Her eyes grew wide in surprise and instantly the dragon queen breaks her gaze, turning around so fast that it startles her advisors.
Missandei turns around then, as she regards the dragon queen with concern. "Your Grace? Is something the matter?"
Tyrion and Jorah silently study their queen with a crease on their brows.
Daenerys looks up at the Naathi but no words came out. Her thoughts are clouded and she's confused and unsure of what just happened. Only when another call from Jorah finally brought her back from her faze.
Daenerys straightens her back and forces a smile then. "I'm fine… I'm just tired is all… I'll be in my cabin for the rest of the day." She finally manages. Missandei instantly relaxes and gave a nod of acknowledgement and so did the others.
Without wasting any more time, Daenerys walks away from the crowd that seems to be celebrating still, with Missandei in tow. Once the Naathi is sure that Daenerys doesn't need anything else, she left the dragon queen to rest in her private cabin. And Daenerys welcomes the silence as she tries to sort her thoughts out. But, even when the stars greet the skies and the night's waves crash against the inside of her cabin's walls, Arya's smile still haunted her.
*
The next day as Arya wakes up from her slumber, which she had the pleasure of sleeping in for a few hours – before being jolted awake by yet another nightmare – she walks out from her cabin and into the upper deck, climbing her way again to the crow's nest to get some fresh air. She leaned forward, resting her arms over the railing as she overlooked the sea. The thick grey clouds are cast over the sky and she closed her eyes to feel the cool wind that comes with it. A content sigh escapes her at the calming surrounding. It was becoming her routine now to wake up – or not sleeping at all – before everyone else and climbed her way up here to watch the early sunrise.
Gradually, the sky glows and the sun emerges as pure gold. Even the cool wind is starting to feel warm against her skin. She stares absentmindedly at the horizon for a while longer before she climbed down to greet the day. As she walks down to the lower deck and to the kitchen to break her fast, she realizes she had a session with Daenerys first thing in the morning. She decides it is best not to ponder it over, at least not before filling her stomach first.
The lower deck is starting to get busy and men are bustling in and out. Some even acknowledge her in passing which Arya returns with a nod. Her race yesterday with Derwin seems to be attracting a lot of attention. And Derwin, the blasted man, actually agreed the race is a tie. He even apologized for calling her scrawny and throws in flattery or two of her skills. Arya decides she could like the man, but he had to ruin it by being all smitten with her again. The first time he did it, she thought it was only a joke. After all, no one has ever shown any interest, in that way to her before and honestly she didn't care because she knows she's nothing close with being a beauty let alone being called one. But, the second time Derwin made a move on her, Arya guessed the man is somehow strange in his taste and best to avoid him altogether.
The thud sound of a plate being placed down in front of her snapped her attention back to her surroundings. She thanked the kitchen crew as she grabs the plate of food ready at the counter and takes a seat. The talking and murmuring of other men become music to her ears as she enjoys her meal silently. Once done, she heads toward the dragon queen's cabin for their session. The guards who are stationed at Daenerys' door have been changed to the Unsullied this time. They let her through after finding no threats on her person.
When Arya walks inside the cabin, she had expected that Daenerys would be angry, and ready to hear a mouthful from the dragon queen even. Given the glare the older woman had openly directed towards her with her participation in the race is any indication. Instead, the said dragon queen does the exact opposite. The older woman's face is void of any emotion and she didn't even look up from her study to acknowledge the young Stark's entering.
"Good morn, Your Grace." Arya greets her guardedly, walking further to the inside of the cabin.
The dragon queen only hums in response as she begins writing. The room became silent after, apart from their breaths and the scratchy sound the feather makes from Daenerys' writing. Arya is starting to wonder if the older woman already forgets her presence. As if reading her thoughts, Daenerys suddenly speaks up.
"Captain Yara Greyjoy mentioned that her men need assistance in the lower deck. I want you to lend a hand and aid them in any way." The dragon queen finished, not even glancing at the young woman in front of her. Arya blinks a few times as she let the information sink.
"Alright… What is it that they need helping with?"
"You'll know when you get there. She probably has someone waiting for you right now."
"Right now? What of our session?"
Daenerys reaches for the ink bottle and dips the tip of the feather before proceeding in writing again. "I'm stopping it. I have no need for it anymore. It seems to be a waste of time when I have many important things to do. Besides, if I have anything else to ask, I'll seek you out myself."
Arya didn't know why the words hurt, but it did. Though she has enough experience to cover that emotion and schooled her features, it didn't really matter, when Daenerys doesn't even look up at her. Arya guessed yesterday's event still angered the Targaryen queen, so she speaks up then.
"Your Grace, I apologize if the race yesterd–"
"I'm sure the men needed all the help they can get. Best you get going now." Daenerys interrupts, as she diligently dips her feather pen again.
Arya bit the inside of her cheek at the obvious dismissal from the dragon queen. Her brows knitted together as she stares at Daenerys with confusion. Finding no answer from the calm and cold features of the Targaryen queen – who still won't look at her in the eyes – the young Stark decides to comply and not to disturb Daenerys further on her seemingly important writing. So, with a nod, Arya excuses herself and heads to the lower deck where she is needed.
*
With her session now completely stopped and ceased to happen, Arya had been spending most of her time in the lower deck, helping out as the dragon queen had ordered her to. The men were indeed shorthanded with no one to take care of the hygiene maintenance. Most of the crew were handling the operation side of the vessel, keeping the ship safely sailing all this while. And Arya realize just how much effort is needed to move the big vessel.
So, when asked if she could clean the dishes, doing their laundry and sometimes even cooked a meal or two, she didn't mind them at all. She prefers doing the work rather than wasting time and lazing around anyway. At least, it would get her mind off of things, like longing for the session with the dragon queen for example. Arya can't help reminisce over it as it was the only time where she was able to completely be herself. When even Daenerys laughs at her dark humour, the young Stark thought maybe they could be friends back then.
Foolish girl. After all this while, I should've known not to let any hopes up. When did I ever get what I wanted?
The cleaned plate she was holding made a loud crashing noise as she throws it begrudgingly into a tray that holds other cleaned dishes.
"Oi, you angry about something, wolf girl?" a voice from across the kitchen shouts at her. Arya looks over her shoulder to find the old man who's in charge of the cooking gave her a questioning look.
"Don't mind me… I'm always angry." She answered, before reaching for another dirty plate. The old man let out a chuckle as he murmurs something under his breath.
Arya focuses back on her task at hand and lets the work occupies her thoughts instead. Time seems to move fast when she always had something to do and somewhere to go to. When dusk is falling rapidly, and her duties are done for the day, she decides to retire to her compartment. But, someone stops her from doing so. An unsullied who surprisingly can talk the common tongue, ask her to bring a jar of wine to serve in the common cabin.
Arya heads toward the intended course with the biggest jar she can find, full of wine. The Unsullied guards are stationed just outside the door. Once they let her through, Arya didn't think of anything else than completing her work here and off to bed soon after. So, she didn't even bother to glance at the occupant inside. But, a familiar voice sounded then.
"Arya?"
The young woman looks up to find a pair of brown eyes staring back. Missandei looks at her with confusion.
"How did you find us here? I just send men out in search for you." Tyrion asked then.
Arya turns to her left where Tyrion was seated by the rectangular table. Yara Greyjoy seated across him. And at the head of the table, Daenerys is there, with Jorah and Grey Worm standing close by her side. Her grey orbs trail to violet ones and judging by the look, Arya can feel that the dragon queen doesn't want her here.
The young woman focused on the Lannister dwarf then, answering his question. "You request for wine?"
"Yes… but why are you the one bringing it?" he asked with a quirk of his brow.
Arya's eyes instinctively flicker towards the Targaryen queen again before she made a quick scan of the others. It seems that no one knew what Daenerys had ordered her to do, except maybe Yara Greyjoy.
"I'm helping out the crew since we're short of people." She finally said.
An uncomfortable silence ensued then as Missandei, Tyrion, Grey Worm and even Jorah turn their heads towards Daenerys with a surprised look.
Daenerys straightens her shoulder then, unperturbed by the others' silent inquiries as she locks her gaze with Arya. "You can leave the wine on the table. We can tend to ourselves." She said dismissing the young woman.
For a moment, Arya only stares back silently as she tries to read Daenerys. But, the dragon queen gave nothing away. So transfixed was Arya at the violet depth and Daenerys at the steel grey orbs, that they are unaware the room had gone eerily quiet as the others awkwardly regard both women's intense gaze. Recalling the dragon queen's instruction, Arya gives a slight nod then, walking further to the room and place the jar of wine on the table before she makes her leave.
"Arya, hold on." Tyrion suddenly said. The young woman halts her track from walking out the door and turns around to him. But, Tyrion turns to the head of the table instead.
"Your Grace, as I've said before… Arya needs to know what's happening in Westeros, and of her family before we can–"
"What do you mean? What happened to my family?" Arya cuts off as she strides back to Tyrion. Panic starts to build inside her as she imagined the worse. The dwarf turns to her, with his hand raised, dismissing any concern from the young Stark.
"Oh, nothing happened. Nothing as you fears… I promise. I only meant about how your family are faring in the North." Tyrion answered with an apologetic smile. Seeing no lie from him, Arya let out a sigh of relief before Daenerys decides to speak up.
"And as I've said before, none of it matters anyway." The dragon queen starts, looking at her Hand before she continues. "I've made my decision and we'll be heading to Dragonstone first. We'll take the castle from Stannis and then I'll fly to King's Landing with my children and take the throne." She finished with a pointed look, daring anyone to say otherwise.
"Then you'll be the Queen of the ashes," Tyrion said back, exasperated. "Even if Robert is a shit King, and I'm more than happy to see you burn him with dragon fire… Westeros is still a united kingdom. They won't let a foreign queen lead them. Are you going to burn each and every single person that doesn't acknowledge you as their queen?"
When Daenerys doesn't say anything back, Tyrion continues. "We need allies… and right now, the only ally we've got is the Greyjoys." He said softly. "The North is where we should be heading. If they know Arya's alive and is in our – your care… they will see you in a different light. Even if they won't provide us with military forces, at least we'll know they won't help Robert then. That will be three great houses in our hand, the Starks, the Tyrells and the Martells, three out of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros." He explains in length.
"Why would the North be any part with those Houses?" Arya asked with furrowed brows, still trying to sort the other information. Tyrion turns to the young woman then.
"Well, they come in a package you see. The Warden of the North, your brother, Lord Robb is married to Lady Margaery Tyrell, the Princess of Highgarden. And Lord Rickon is betrothed to Prince Doran Martell's daughter, Alarra Martell…the Princess of Dorne. So, I'm sure that if the Starks join our cause, then the others will come along too." Tyrion answered confidently.
Arya stares at the mismatch orbs of the Lannister dwarf absentmindedly. She didn't know Robb was married and Rickon is betrothed. The young Stark hadn't thought to ask about that sort of thing before. Knowing they're alive and well in Winterfell is enough for her. But the new information only made her happy for them. She wonders if Jon's married too. Her trains of thought got interrupted as the dragon queen finally speaks up again.
"We can discuss this further on the morrow. For now, leave me here to my thoughts." Daenerys said tiredly as she leans back to her chair. When the others only stare back guardedly, Daenerys let out a sigh. "Alone." She ordered.
At the obvious dismissal from the dragon queen, the others reluctantly complied. Missandei is the one standing up first, leaving the room before Yara, Grey Worm, Tyrion and then Jorah followed soon after. Daenerys let out a soft sigh as she rubs the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tiredly for a moment before she opens them again. The dragon queen expects to find the room empty when she opens her eyes, only to find that it's not. Arya is still rooted in her spot silently.
"You're still here," Daenerys said. "Why are you still here?" she asked with obvious irritation, before sipping to her last wine.
Arya tilts her head to the older woman, finding they were alone in the cabin. She didn't realize the others leaving as she was too preoccupied with her thoughts. The wheels inside her mind keep turning to connect the information together. She decides to let her questions free.
"What Tyrion said… if it's indeed true, why wouldn't you sail to the North?" Arya finished. She agreed that it was the perfect plan for the dragon queen. Daenerys could get more allies and secured the seven kingdoms gradually in time. So, when the older woman seems reluctant to do it, Arya cannot think of a reason why.
Daenerys let out a sigh as she knows there's no way that Arya will leave her alone now. The dragon queen stands up with her empty goblet in hand and walks around the table to the jar of wine the young woman brought. "It doesn't concern you." She said coldly while pouring a generous amount of red wine to her cup.
Anger is starting to rise inside the young Stark at the queen's word. "Doesn't concern me?" she asked with disbelief, shooting glares at Daenerys. "I was born and raised in the North… my family is the ruler of the vast region since even before your ancestors' conquest… which we're still is till this day. And as I hate to admit it, I am the Princess of Winterfell. Which part of those things that doesn't concern me?"
Daenerys turns to the young woman then, her wine is now forgotten. "So, now you know your worth… you want a say in everything that I decided?" she asked dangerously.
But, Arya was having none of it. "Don't put words in my mouth. That's not what I said… I only want to know why you wouldn't consider going to Winterfell."
"I don't have to explain myself to you, Stark." The dragon queen seethes.
So, now I'm Stark again. Arya thought begrudgingly.
The young woman ignores the comment and takes a step closer then. "What are you afraid of? That my family would hurt you? That they wouldn't believe you? That I would betray you?" she asked calmly.
Daenerys only stares back silently, but Arya can see a twitch at the corner of the older woman's eyes when she mentioned the last part.
"I wouldn't do that… I won't betray you. My Father always thought us to be honourable and true to our words. I pledge myself to you and I will do so until my last breath." Arya continues, hoping that the older woman will have no doubt about her again.
But, Daenerys let a short, mirthless chuckle. She turns around and reaches for her forgotten wine on the table before taking a long sip then. For a moment, only the sound of her drinking and Arya's breath surrounds the room. "You said that… but then you go and do the exact opposite." Daenerys finally said, putting down her empty goblet with her back still facing the young woman.
A frown appears on Arya's face as she tries to solve the dragon queen's riddle. "If you're talking about the race… it was not my intention to–"
"Yes, the bloody race! Do you know how reckless, thoughtless and impetuous your action was?" Daenerys cuts in, turning around and facing the young woman again. Seeing the dumbstruck look on Arya's face only raised the older woman's anger. "If anything were to happen to you…what would your family say? The lost daughter of Ned Stark, dead, on a Targaryen vessel. Do you think your words would mean anything to me then?" she asked, exasperated.
Arya blinks hard at that, loss of words. Truth be told, she never thought of the worst scenarios, only because she knows she will be fine since she had climbed her way up many times before. But, Daenerys doesn't know that and Arya felt guilt creeping inside her for making the older woman worried. But, before she can express it, the dragon queen continues.
"And you speak of honesty and honour… but you don't tell me all the truths." Daenerys accused with a pointed look.
Arya's frown only deepens. "All the things that you've asked me, I answered them as best as I can with no intention of deceiving and pretend. And now, you're telling me you don't believe me?" She asked back, trying hard not to sound upset.
The thoughts of her counsel with Daenerys and the possibility that the older woman's just playing her is starting to crawl their way into Arya's doubt. She remembers back all their interaction, the older woman's questions and her reactions. Was it all an act? Did Daenerys want something else entirely than what she really said? If she did, then she was a great actor and Arya was the fool who believes her.
"Fine, then tell me… truthfully, how did you know the assassin was a Faceless Man?" Daenerys asked then.
"Wha– What?" Arya stutters at the unexpected question that seems to come out of nowhere.
Seeing the uneasiness coming from the young woman only strengthens Daenerys belief that Arya is hiding something. The truth was the dragon queen always wanted to ask the young woman about it someday. Daenerys wants to start by building their trusts to each other little by little before she drops the question to the young Stark. But, things don't always go according to her plan. And now, she's demanding the answer from Arya like a tyrant queen and she hated herself for it. But, at least Daenerys doesn't have any reason left to feel attached to the young woman once she gets the answer she craves for. And maybe then, her dreams would be free of the young woman.
"When you came to my private quarters back in Meereen and fought off the assassin… How did you know he was a Faceless Man?" Daenerys repeats her question more clearly. Arya looks at the violet orbs as she regains herself.
"As I've told Tyrion, the man whispers something –"
"Oh, cut the crap… you said you'll answer without deceiving. We both know how your state was after the fight. The moment you stab the assassin to his side, you're not there… you're somewhere else entirely and the only words I hear from him was his scream of agony. He didn't say anything else as you claimed."
The gaze from the accusing violet orbs seems too much for Arya to bear. She snaps her head away, thinking hard on how to escape. But, Daenerys doesn't budge and Arya starts to wonder if she should tell the older woman the truth about it. All of it.
"I know he was a Faceless Man the moment he shows himself and spoke. They have a distinct accent and certain sentences that only meant something to themselves." Arya began softly. She tilts her head back in front of her, to Daenerys.
"And how did you know all of those things?"
"Because I was a Faceless Man, once."
The violet orbs grew wider at the young woman's declaration. The dragon queen's heart is starting to beat faster by the second, as she imagined that Arya would lunge at her and finish what the Faceless Man was tasked for. But, Daenerys shakes that fear away as she realized what Arya said. "Was? But, you're not anymore?" she asks.
"No, I'm not."
Daenerys instantly relaxes at the confirmation but it only lasted a second as she senses something uncanny. "So, you went to Braavos then? When did you join the Faceless organization?"
"I took a merchant ship to Braavos when I was one and five, and remain in the service of the House of Black and White until I was one and eight before I decided to leave," Arya explains calmly as if she's reading it out of a book.
"And that's when Qazlas' men caught you? After you left the cult?" the older woman asks deeper.
"No, I was in the fighting pit longer before that…" Arya trails uncomfortably. She swallows a lump dryly and decides to tell the truth. "After Father and Sansa were killed during the Kingsroad attack, I ran off… trying to find my way back to Winterfell. But, there were men, snatchers I assumed… they caught me and sold me along with other children they took. Qazlas bought me then and decides to put me in his pit."
Daenerys stares openly at the young Stark as she tries to make sense of the words. The dragon queen knew Arya was only one and two when the Kingsroad attack happens, and when she met Arya the first time in the cell, the young Stark could be no older than what she is right now, a woman of one and eight. "Your stories aren't aligned. How did you travel to Braavos when at the same time you've been captured and sold off to Qazlaz?" Daenerys asked as her brows furrowed together.
"Because it didn't happen on the same timeline. I don't know how, but..." Arya trailed, shifting her weight uncomfortably. "I went back in time and had two different lives. " she finished carefully. She knows how the words sounded to her own lips and even she doubts the credibility of it. How does one explain what she's been going through?
The dragon queen only stares back with an unreadable expression. "Went back in time? So, you're meant to say that you became the Faceless assassin in your first life before you were sent back in time to be Qazlas's slave? Hence, Braavos and the fighting pit?" Daenerys asked with a quirk of her brows. Arya let out a small smile at the older woman's correct guessing.
"Yes. I did." She answered excitedly. "I know it sounds unreal and unbelievable but that's what happened."
"Do you take me for a fool, Stark?"
Arya's smile completely fell at Daenerys question. The dragon queen gives a light chuckle of disbelief as she shakes her head. "All I asked is a simple truth… and you tell me this tale of time travelling?" her eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold and hard.
Arya clenched her jaw tight as her eyes squinted in response. Her hope that Daenerys would believe her vanishes into thin air. She wants– needs the dragon queen to believe her but instead Daenerys threw it back to her face. A logical part of her wants to convince the dragon queen further with words, but the shame and anger parts won. "Maybe the truth is not that simple, Your Grace." She defends, trailing mockingly at her title. "You demand the truth but once it was given to you… you shove it away because it was not what you expected. The same thing happened back when I told you about the truth of your father, the Mad King... Maybe you ought to tell me the reason then, why I knew the man was a Faceless Man." She challenged.
Daenerys fixed Arya a glare that could have set the entire ship aflame. "Careful, Stark… you don't want to cross the line." She warns, beseechingly. But, Arya isn't afraid.
"If I did… are you going to punish me then? Make me clean the chamber pot perhaps? Or burn me to ashes?" she asked with a sick smile on her face. "Mayhaps you should do just that. Let Drogon set me aflame and be done with it. You don't have to worry about my family. They already thought I was dead anyway… You're actually helping them by giving them closure." Her grey eyes shine wildly.
"Stop talking, Stark." Daenerys orders, her tone regal.
But the young woman only laughs back. Her ashen orbs grew darker and wilder as she lets all her frustration out in the open, not bothering at all with the mask she always wore.
"And now you want me to shut up… it must be nice being a Queen. Where you make everybody listens to you, everybody believes you. But, I'm done with what everybody wants and needs! They can protect themselves and wipe their own shit off their asses, themselves. All I've ever done is for the sake of others. I'm tired of this…this fucking life and the Gods… who are making me their personal plaything." Arya said out of breath, panting hard.
The young woman was trembling with something akin to anger as her words flew from her mouth. Her grey eyes grow unfocussed as if in trance. The situation reminds Daenerys of the similar state the young Stark was in when she killed the Faceless Man back in Meereen. The dragon queen should feel threatened, but surprisingly she's not. Instead, her own fury starts to dissipate and now replaced with worry.
"Stop talking, Stark," Daenerys orders the second time, though her tone grew softer now, more for the young woman's sake than herself. But Arya doesn't seem to be hearing anything as she closes in and only stops when she's mere inches from the older woman. At the close proximity, Daenerys can almost get a whiff of Arya's scent. Of pines, faint earthy smell and something else that is entirely her own. It immediately calms her, but it seems that it only affected the older woman as the person in front still held her feral gaze.
"Kill me now. Drown me or burn me… I don't care either way, as long as I'm dead, and be done with it." Arya pleads like a madman. When she looked into the violet orbs, Daenerys expression turns intense, almost threatening. For a moment, Arya thought that maybe the Targaryen queen would agree to her wishes after all.
But instead, Daenerys grabbed Arya forward and placed her lips onto the young woman in a hurried kiss. And in an instant, the dark cloud in Arya's mind vanished and cleared. The dragon queen's mouth was so warm, the caress of her lips softer than Arya could have imagined. But, she was too dumbstruck to react to any of it.
Daenerys seems to realize the young woman's lack of response as she suddenly pushed Arya away as if she's been burned. A look of surprise covers both their faces and they stare at each other until the awkward silence stretch. But, it doesn't last long when Daenerys suddenly clears her throat and excuse herself out of the cabin in a hurry. Arya stares at the empty space absentmindedly, as she trails her lips with her fingers, wondering what the hell just happened.