In which everyone took a step for a better change.
*Year 304 After Conquest (AC) - New Future*
To say that Arya Stark is stupefied would be an understatement. The young woman can't recall if she ever gets back safely to her intended cabin, after what happens with a certain dragon queen last night. She might have remained inside the common cabin all night long for all she knows. She can't even remember how she had come to the kitchen in the lower deck, now scrubbing the wooden plate the next morning. At first glance, the crew would think the young Stark is absolutely diligent in her daily chores, as she scrubs the dirty plate over and over again. But, in actuality, Arya was none of that. Her mind was thousands of leagues away and in a state of stunned confusion.
And Arya Stark is rarely confused. She's not someone that is easily bewildered or perplexed. Her teachers in the House of Black and White thought her better. There were only two times in her lifetime that she was utterly confused about what had happened; the first, of when she travelled through time – twice, and the second, of when Daenerys Targaryen had kissed her last night.
Arya tries to make sense of the incident. She remembered telling Daenerys the peculiar truth of her time travelling. And as expected, the dragon queen didn't believe her. Truthfully, Arya doesn't really blame the older woman for that. Her old self wouldn't believe it either if someone told her they can turn back time.
And then after, they were both arguing about it. The remaining details were a blur to the young Stark, but she recalled feeling dejected and furious. The next thing she knows, the dragon queen's lips were on hers. She can almost taste the wine that Daenerys drank that night mixed with something else that is sweet. Arya absentmindedly slides her tongue over her own lips, wondering if it would still taste the same if she kissed the dragon queen again. The pit of her stomach churned at the thought.
Immediately, it snaps her sense back as if she had done something shameful. She let out a sigh, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. It would do her no good to think about it deeper. Perhaps Daenerys was just drunk and had mistaken her for someone else.
Yes, perhaps she was.
"With all those scrubbing, one might think that you actually enjoyed washing dishes tremendously or that you actually hated it with your gut and try to sabotage the innocent plate by making a hole on them…scrubbing the same spot for the past ten minutes." A voice sounded then.
Arya stops her actions to look over her shoulder and finds Tyrion giving her a slight smile in greeting.
"Don't stop now…you almost made it. I think I can see the light shines through the plate already." He continues his jape lightly. Arya's only reaction is the quirk of an eyebrow, unimpressed.
The last thing she needs right now is the Lannister dwarf's nonsense chatter to add into her chaotic mind. So, she turns back around, facing her chores as she puts away the over-cleaned plate and takes another dirty one. She heard the shuffling of feet before Tyrion comes and stands in her view.
"Good Gods! You're not actually enjoying this, are you? There's simply no other explanation why you'd be here." He said dramatically. She stops scrubbing again and locked eyes with mismatch orbs in front of her.
She didn't have it in her to reply and honestly, she was too tired to come up with a witty reply of her own. Instead, she blinks a few times and waits for whatever else he wants to say.
"And Missandei has been getting her lovely bushy hair in a knot– I mean both figuratively and literally since you're not in your room last night and this morning… When she couldn't find you, guess who she called for help? Yes, me. Who does the woman think she is? Ordering me around… I merely followed through because I have something to ask of you. Definitely not because of her frightening looking face when she's agitated."
At that, the corner of Arya's lips curved into a slightly slanted smile. Tyrion seems mildly pleased with himself for it.
"So, why are you really here…doing–this?" he asked after a moment, gesturing to the pile of dirty plates inside the basket between them and later continues. "And don't say because you're helping out the crew."
"Everyone needs a hobby, perhaps I just found one." Arya retaliates. Tyrion let out a huff.
"I don't think washing dishes is among the top list of anyone's 'favourite things I enjoyed doing in my spare time'. I don't think it would be on any list actually–especially for people like you." He answered back. She narrows her eyes at that as she tilted her head slightly.
"People like me?"
"Yes, people like you, who would rather enjoy sparring and horse riding perhaps… I don't know, but something far more exciting."
Arya hummed in agreement before speaks up. "Well, since both options aren't available, I make do with what I have." She shrugged.
They exchange glances for a moment as Tyrion gathers his thought before speaking again. His playful smile gone now as he asked. "What did you do to Daenerys?"
Arya immediately tensed at the sudden question. The thought that Tyrion actually saw what happened last night made her anxious, and she doesn't know why it makes her feels so. She didn't actually do anything to the dragon queen other than arguing verbally with the older woman. If anything, it was Daenerys who did something to her. Arya chews her lips on instinct as the thought of certain soft lips violated her mind again. And suddenly, the pit of her stomach stirs again.
"I mean you obviously did something to anger or irritate the Queen…for her to send you away, and making you attends to these chores." Tyrion finished with a pointed look, not realizing the young woman in front is having a battle of her own.
Exactly three seconds pass before Arya regain herself from her torturing thought and her unsettled stomach. Perhaps she's coming down with a fever for her body to react this strangely. She held her gaze at Tyrion then who waits for her to explain herself.
"I didn't do anything to upset her…" She answered back but pauses as she gives it another thought when Tyrion shot her an incredulous look.
The memories of them arguing last night come uninvited. But, that happened after Daenerys assigned her to the crew. If anything, it should happen before that. "I think she's mad about the race I had with Derwin the other day." She guessed.
Tyrion let out a soft sigh. "Well, I think you're probably right." He concurs. "And there goes my plan down the drain."
Arya quirked an eyebrow as her interest perks up. "What plan?"
"I thought you could help me convince Daenerys that we should sail to the North."
A chuckle escaped her uninvited. "You're Hand of the Queen yet she didn't listen to you… What makes you think she'll listen to me?"
Tyrion gave the smallest of shrug as he answers. "Who knows, perhaps you can charm your Northerner way into her."
Arya shakes her head slightly with mild amusement. "I think not… I'm not her favourite person if you still haven't realized." She commented as she focuses back scrubbing the plate before continues. "And furthermore, she'll think I would only want to go back home if I suggested it."
Tyrion moves closer then. "But, you don't think of that…do you?" he asked. Arya looks up to find hopeful emerald and black orbs searching hers. She waits for Tyrion to explain further. "Sure, you want to go home and all…but politically speaking, sailing to the North is the best choice for us to win this war. Your family is tied down to other two great houses in Westeros and what more is that Robert would have surmise for Daenerys to make her first stop in Dragonstone or Lannisport– since he knows I'm her Hand… Who knows what army and defences they prepared at those castles? And I'm trying to prevent as many casualties as possible, from both sides." He explains.
Arya held her gaze at the Lannister dwarf whose features turns expectant like he's waiting for her approval.
"I suppose… I'm not the one born with the gift of politics." She finally replies, keeping her face indifference.
Tyrion sighs and the disappointment from his demeanour didn't go unnoticed by the young Stark. "No, I guess you're not."
"I'm not." She said again, affirmatively. "Now, if you'll excuse me… I need to get this done and I can't do that if you're here harassing me every second." She shot him a glare.
But, Tyrion doesn't seem to finish yet as he ignores it and continues. "You know that Daenerys will burn her enemies down to crisp when it comes down to it…and right now, the Starks are not on our side yet. What are the odds that– say your Lord brother, the Warden of the North…is waiting in one of those castles to defend them from us? Daenerys wouldn't be able to differentiate him from friends and foes when the battle happens. Would you fight him then? Or would you switch sides and betray us instead?" He accused.
Arya's face was its usual expression of neutrality, revealing nothing of whatever is going on inside her mind. For a few seconds, her face remained impassive as the last sentence from Tyrion hung heavy in the air. And as the silence passed, Tyrion starts to regret his straightforwardness and offensive way of approaching the young woman's help as the grey eyes in front of him change hostile.
"No, I wouldn't go against my family…and no, I wouldn't betray Daenerys." She declares calmly despite her threatening gaze. "But, I can't say the same thing to the others…in those upcoming moments of madness and chaos you called war, anything is possible– No rules to follow and no honour to question. No one counts how many men you cut down but yourself." Her chilly voice finished.
There was nothing Tyrion can say to that except swallowing a lump dryly at the subtle threat from the young wolf. Though her words were vague in stating she wouldn't mind killing the others beside her family and the Queen, Tyrion knows exactly who she meant to cut down.
His chance to seek help from Arya at that moment was lost as he realizes he had crossed the line. Not wanting to antagonize her further, and decides he will never get her help anyway, he dismisses himself. As he walks away, it takes him all of his willpower not to look over his shoulder, for he was certain Arya would have attempted to throw her hidden dagger at his back any moment.
Not only after a few turns and stairs later did he look over and found nothing.
*
A few days pass on as usual and the young Stark who thought to be dead by her family had been spending her time helping out the Ironborn inside their vessel. It was the same each day as she starts her morning down the kitchen and then to the upper deck to clean. Usually, she was free of her duties before the night approach. And when Arya has nothing to do, she would climb up the spar and just watch everyone and everything.
Sometimes of the crew, as the Ironmen calmly manoeuvred the speeding vessel or when the Dothraki and the Unsullied tried to communicate among themselves, as they unintentionally created a comical relief for the young woman when they use their body vigorously instead of spoken words to deliver whatever they intended to say to one another.
But, mostly she would silently watch the vast ocean and the blue skies that spread infinitely along the horizon for hours, seeking that calmness she needs so badly. Since Tyrion last visit, which she's still pissed off about– how dare he questioned her loyalty towards the dragon queen when he's the one that pushed her to take the step in the first place. And asking her to choose between her family and Daenerys is like asking her to choose who she loved more, father or Jon. And of course, she loved them both equally. Sure, Arya isn't in love with Daenerys or anything of the like, but the analogy applies still. Her family is of her blood and Daenerys is of her duty. All of them are her pack.
And they should stay that way, especially for one particular silver-haired queen. To this day, Arya cannot find a bloody single reason why that kiss with Daenerys happened, besides the dragon queen was indeed drunk. But, as days went by, the claim weakened when Arya remembered staring back into clear albeit flustered violet eyes soon after, not sluggish or confused ones from being drunk. What is more frustrated being the fact that she cannot stop thinking about how she wanted to feel those lips again too.
It was quite late when she was in her cabin, lazing on her bed. The same thoughts for the past few days occupy her mind, torturing her from inside. Her turning and flipping on her bed got interrupted when a knock sounded outside her door. Arya immediately stiffens as the first person who comes into her mind was Daenerys. Her grey eyes fixed sharply at the wooden door as she waits a few seconds more, wondering if she misheard it. Another knock then is heard soon after, ending all her doubt.
Finally mustering her courage, she gets up and opens the door revealing a pair of brown orbs instead of violet ones that she had secretly hope to see. Arya shakes off the odd feeling of disappointment as she returns Missandei's smile half-heartedly.
"I hope I'm not bothering you." The Naathi said as a way of greeting.
"If I said you were…would you leave me alone?"
"Probably not," Missandei answered lightly as she shoves the door further before inviting herself inside.
Arya finds her lips curving upward out of their own volition again- sincerely this time, as she proceeds to close the door before facing the older woman standing in the middle of the room. Her gaze immediately fell on Missandei's new hairdo and outfit.
"I thought Tyrion was joking when he said you had your hair tied in a knot," she commented with a quirk of her brow.
"I'm trying something new," Missandei replied.
"It suits you," Arya said with an approving nod as she studies the older woman attire of black half high-neck dress which she's sporting it with fitted trousers underneath. A circular three-headed dragon brooch planted on the left side of her chest and her hair pull-back in a knot.
Missandei inclined her head with a smile. "Thank you. In fact, that is the reason I come to visit you tonight."
Arya blinks a few times before asking, "You're here to do my hair?"
Missandei releases a soft laugh at that. "As much as I would like to…no, I'm not here to do your hair. Perhaps we can do that some other time?" She trails as she moves closer to the young woman then, extending her hands to her. "Here, this is for you."
Arya looks down to find the older woman is holding a bundle of neatly folded clothes. The young Stark looks up again with a frown. "I don't need new fancy clothes."
Missandei shot the young woman a look. "The weather's getting colder by the day…you need to wear something warmer." She retaliates and shoves the bundle of clothes to the stubborn young Stark anyway.
When Arya looks back with hesitant gaze, the Naathi reaches for the young woman's hands and place the bundle on them, successfully making Arya accepted her offer.
"Besides, I altered them to best suit you…no one else would be able to wear it," Missandei adds on.
Arya blinks a few times before she realizes the older woman's declaration. "You made these?"
Missandei only hummed in response. Arya wanted to ask why but the Naathi beats her to it.
"The Queen asked me to…but, even if she didn't, I would still make them for you."
At the mention of Daenerys, Arya's tongue froze. More questions swam inside her mind but she knows none of them can be answered by Missandei.
Looking at the confused and solemn young woman in front of her, Missandei let out a soft sigh. "I don't know what happened between you and Daenerys but I think she's trying to make amend." She said, assuring. Arya started, as her grey orbs instantly focus to brown ones.
"Huh– What?" she stammered earning a smirk from the older woman.
"I said you should consider accepting the Queen's apologies." The Naathi replies.
The young Stark tries her best to ignore the silly smile that graces Missandei's feature. "I don't know what you're talking about. Nothing happens between us." She defends with a shrug although her mind is actively thinking the possibilities of what Missandei's claimed.
"Really? It doesn't look like nothing happened the other day when you brought us our wine in the common cabin. The tension that surrounds both of you at the time was as loud as what's actually spoken– even louder to anyone that pays any attention." Missandei retaliates. Arya opens her mouth to respond but closes them again when no words come out. She settles with a scowl instead when Missandei shot her a smug smile.
"I hope both of you reconciled soon…it was unsettling to get caught in between. A lover's quarrel does not even last this long." the Naathi tacked on.
Arya's face turned an intense shade of red at the ridiculous comment. She let out a huff before trying to find words to defend herself but again she was left speechless. Missandei tries her best to hide her amusement as much as she could muster at the moment, but seeing the young woman's feature only turns redder by the second, she knows it wasn't actually working.
After a few more seconds of embarrassment, Arya finally shot the older woman a sharp glare that could make any man petrified. "Are you quite finish?" she asked after finding her voice again. The young woman didn't know why she should feel embarrassed about Missandei's comparing her and Daenerys as lovers or why she feels affected by any of it in the first place.
"Yes, I am. I'll be on my way now and let you retire." The Naathi answered back, unperturbed by the wolf's glare as she starts her retreat out of the room. "I'll come again in the morn to do your hair." She decides without waiting for the young woman's reply and left.
Arya stares at the closed door silently, dumbfounded by what just happened. It takes her a few moments to realise Missandei will be here again come morning. She didn't know whether to feel terrified of the fact that the older woman seems to see through her façade or the fact that she will get her hair done. She decides it was both.
*
True to her words, Missandei comes knocking on Arya's door the next morning. There are no mentions of a certain silver-haired queen on the older woman's lips as the Naathi works her way through to tame the wild lock Arya called her hair, and for that, the young Stark was grateful. It was enough to think about the dragon Queen silently inside her head. She doesn't need anyone else to whisper Daenerys name to her ears aloud too.
It only took Missandei an hour to complete Arya's hairdo. The young woman doesn't remember the last time her hair got braided. But, she remembered she hated it because of the long hours she had to sit through and how uncomfortable she was at someone pulling her hair around. The fact that none of that affected her anymore with Missandei, surprised her. What is more shocking is that she actually liked how her hair turned out.
It was a simple braid that starts from above her left ear and it goes in a diagonal line across her head, until it combines with the rest of her longer hair from the right, making the braid falls over her chest. It wasn't the neatest and perfect hairdo as any common lady might wear on normal occasions, with a few strands and locks escapes at some places, but Arya likes it nonetheless. It was sort of messy but in place at the same time and what's more important is that it's functional. She won't have to worry about getting all her hair slapping on her face anymore every time the wind goes wild. All in all, it was definitely a step up from her usual pull-back and let-loose hairdo.
The sentiment was shared with the older woman as Missandei let a triumph smile at her completed work. Earning an approval by the young Stark, she dismisses herself soon after to let Arya attends to herself and properly readies herself for the day.
Arya immediately unfolded the bundle of clothes that Missandei gave last night to find a much thicker white tunic than she currently wears. A black half dress almost similar to Missandei's, but it was shorter and the leather lacing starts from the front with silver and blue linings –House Stark colours; she noted, and also fitted trousers.
She proceeds to don them one by one until she notices the silver brooch of circular three-headed dragon left on the bed. It must have fallen when she untied the bundle earlier. The brooch is identical to the one the Naathi wore and Arya pin it on her right side, over her chest without a second thought. With a last glance over the mirror, she heads out of her room to start another repetitive day in the infamous vessel, Black Wind.
They must have put up a notice that Arya isn't aware of because almost everyone in the ship has sported new looks. No more jerkins for the Unsullied, instead they wore a long-sleeved padded jacket over their torso. Even the Dothraki are showing less skin and covered with another layer of clothing.
The weather is definitely getting colder than the first time they set sail from Meereen, as Missandei claimed, and the young Stark acknowledge it. But, Arya doesn't pay it any heed as it doesn't affect her that much. Truth be told, she liked it colder as it reminds her of home. With the drop of the temperature though, it can only mean that they're getting closer to Westeros and the thought terrified her. She doesn't know what to expect of the future in this new timeline.
"Pardon me, m'lady…" a voice trails from behind her snapping her from her musings. Arya doesn't have to look over her shoulder to know who it belongs to. She continues her walk along the hallway instead, knowing that Derwin will follow. "But, 'as ya seen a woman…wit' wild brown 'air, murderous grey eyes, and sharp tongue walkin' around 'ere?" he continues. Arya halted her steps then as she turns her head to him, giving him a stink-eye.
"Aye, that's the one… ya 'ave the same murderous glare as the she-wolf… and 'bout the same 'eight too." he commented as he reaches his hand over her head, literally measuring her height.
"Go away, Derwin…before I murder you for real." Arya threatens as she slaps his hand away before continues walking her intended path.
"I wouldn't mind if ya did…ya can put yer lovely fingers on ma throat an' squeeze it all day if it pleases ya," Derwin shouts as he picks up his pace to match the young woman's.
Arya can only roll her eyes at that as she takes a right turn and enters the kitchen's quarter. As always, old man Xander is already there stirring something in the big pot. She inclined her head in greetings and he stares back for a few seconds as he takes her new transformation, before finally grunts in return.
Without being told, she naturally moves to her station beside the older man. After washing her hands, she takes the first peeled potato from the basket and starts to chop it into cubes. For a moment, only the sounds of the knife hitting the board and the stirring of boiling stew accompany them until another sound of footsteps echoed from outside.
"What ya cookin' for today, ma beautiful murderous little wolf?" Derwin asked, popping his head from the small opening that separates the kitchen from the dining hall in the lower deck. Arya manages to repress a sigh as she continues her chopping. Imagining the potato as Derwin really helps.
Luckily, old man Xander is as annoyed at Derwin as Arya is, perhaps more, judging by his stiff demeanour when he stops his stirring and walks over to where Derwin is. "Fuck off, Harlow. What do I tell you about not wanting your filthy mouth anywhere near my kitchen?" he seethes.
"I meant no harm 'ere, old man… just tryin' to keep ya company."
"What you're doing is actually pissing me off. Now, do you think angering your cooks is such a good idea?"
Derwin looks mildly terrified by the threat as he slowly frees himself out from the small opening.
"And stop pestering the poor girl…you're not her type." Xander finished as he slides closed the opening for good with a wooden plank, before picking up where he left of.
A few moments passes in comfortable silence as Arya proceeds to dump the potato cubes inside the stew.
"How do you know he's not my type?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Anyone in their right or twisted mind wouldn't want that peeve of a man anywhere near them." He answered. Arya chuckled at that.
It takes them another hour or so to finally finish everything. Arya is about to head out for the crews' distribution but Xander stops her before she can as he shoves a tray of food to her instead.
"Take this to the Queen's cabin." He orders. Arya stares at the old man and down at the tray in her hands, dumbfounded.
"The Queen? Wha– I mean… why?" she managed to blurt out.
"Because like everyone else, the Queen needs to break her fast too." He answered as a matter of fact.
"I'm aware of that…but why me? You can bring it to her instead. I'll take care of things here." Arya retaliates, shoving the tray back to the old man.
But, it was to no success as Xander puts it right back on her arms. "She specifically asked of you… Off you go now," he said back and walks out for the distribution, leaving Arya contemplating on her own.
The young Stark let out a long sigh soon after. Straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she starts walking to the familiar hallway that leads to Daenerys room. A few turns later, the Unsullied guards appear in her line of vision. They let them through after the usual inspection but Arya finds herself rooted in front of the door. Millions of thoughts cross her mind at the same time making her anxious and relentless. She doesn't understand any of these changes that are happening to her. But, she reckons running away is not the answer.
So, she pulls herself together before pushing the door and steps inside after Daenerys permits her to do so. The young woman doesn't even bother to look up to where the dragon queen is. She can feel the older woman's gaze on her the moment she opened the door. After successfully putting the tray of food on top of the table, she inclined her head at the silver-haired queen in greeting before planning to escape right after. She already turns around and heads for the door when Daenerys calls.
"Arya."
She halts her step then and slowly turns around to face the dragon queen again. "Your Grace." She said back, still with her gaze down. She heard the shuffling of feet before that said foot appears in her line of vision.
"Do you mind joining me?"
A frown graces the young Stark's features as she glances over the tray that she brought in. Only then she realizes that there are two portions of food in the tray. How can she miss those important details, she wasn't sure. Was her mind so clouded that she didn't even notice Daenerys had this planned out? Arya decides she can't bear having whatever this feeling might be to affect her judgement. It's always better to stay aloof. It's what keeps people around her and herself safe.
"I already ate, Your Grace," Arya answered politely. It was too polite for Daenerys likings. "If that is all…" the young Stark continues and ready to turn away again.
"No, that is not all," Daenerys said quickly, stopping the young woman's escape. "I have something to say…to explain."
Arya's frown only deepens at that. All the happenings from their last meeting played in her mind especially the kiss that keeps torturing her insides. She doesn't know if she wants to hear that reason from the older woman.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Your Grace," Arya replies, using the statement the dragon queen once used.
A soft sigh escaped Daenerys. "I didn't mean it like that, Arya. That night, I wasn't thinking clearly and with all the things that have happened, you pulled the last strain I had and I end up taking my anger out on you... And for that, I owe you an apology."
Daenerys voice sounds so sincere that Arya had to look up and see her for the first time. Her violet gaze staring at hers kindly and Arya couldn't find it in her to look away again so she stares back silently.
"I'm sorry for keeping you hanging and for treating you unfairly for the things that are not even yours to blame." Daenerys continues, taking a step closer towards the young woman. Arya can sense that there is some hidden meaning behind those words but she shrugs it off when the dragon queen speaks up again. "And about the Faceless Man and the time travel–"
"It meant nothing." Arya cuts in, effectively stopping Daenerys. "I don't quite remember what I said that night. It was probably all nonsense... Though, I was serious about having retired from the cult." She assured the older woman. Letting other people know her secret would do nothing good to anyone, she decides. And when some of the tension from Daenerys seems to alleviate, it only strengthens Arya's decision.
For a few moments, they stand there silently, holding each other's gaze like they're tied to each other. Arya used those moments of silence to really study the silver-haired queen. Similar to the others, the older woman also sports a new look. The red and black half dress and trousers hug her body in all the right places. A silver big chain with a dragon's head planted on her right shoulder. And she has a red sash hanging from it. Arya thought the older woman looks even beautiful than the last time she saw her.
Her grey orbs focus on violet ones again to find Daenerys is studying her too. It takes all Arya's willpower not to fidget around under the older woman's patronizing gaze. She intentionally clears her throat loudly, bringing Daenerys focus back to her face rather than her body.
"Is that why you asked Missandei to sew me new clothes? To make amends?" she asked lightly, trying to lift the tension that surrounds them. Daenerys hummed in response.
"Among other things as well." She replies. Arya quirked a brow and waited. "I don't want people to say I'm treating the Princess of Winterfell poorly."
And now Arya is pretty sure the dragon queen is jesting with her.
"Furthermore, when we arrived in White Harbor, I have to make a good impression both on your family and the North," Daenerys adds on. Arya felt her throat choke up at the last remark.
"We're sailing to White Harbor?"
Daenerys gives a nod in response. The young Stark was left speechless at the new information. It seems that Tyrion did manage to convince Daenerys after all. She can't believe she's finally going home. Her heart speeds up in anticipation as the memories of her family swam inside her head.
"So, when we travel to Winterfell, do I have your word that you'll support me?" Daenerys asked suddenly, snapping the young woman from her trance.
Arya blinks a few times to clear her head before she answers. "I'm offended you still had to ask that… Yes, you have my word." She concurs. A slight smile tugs the corner of Daenerys mouth in return.
"I supposed I owe you an apology too…I must have crossed the line, that you had to shut me up using such desperate measure." Arya speaks again after mustering up her courage to do so. Daenerys shot the young Stark a questioning look.
"I mean when we…when you kissed me. I must have said something to upset you that–"
"No, you hadn't." Daenerys interrupts.
Arya studied the look on the dragon queen's face but she seemed rather certain about it. "I hadn't?" she questioned back with a frown.
"No."
"Then, why would you–"
"Because I wanted to."
Arya gapes openly at her declaration. She swallowed a lump feeling her mouth dried up as Daenerys words hung heavy in the air.
It takes Arya a few hard blinks and a mirthless chuckle later to find her voice again. "Because you wanted to…what exactly?" she asked back with another frown.
Daenerys takes another step then, closing the gap between them with only a few inches apart. "For a woman of your reputation, Arya Stark…you are pretty slow in this, aren't you?" she teases making the young woman turns to a shade of red.
"The only reason I kissed you is because I wanted to, nothing else." Daenerys finished calmly leaving the young woman stunned to silence again.
Arya doesn't know if the warm fuzzy feelings she felt had something to do with Daenerys being so close or because of her confession, though she can guess it was both. She wanted to move away, but her feet froze and her rationality seems to get lost in that sea of violet in front of her.
Just then, without warning, the floor beneath them sway violently as if the ship has been pulled. The tray of food and other things inside the room ends up tumbling down the floor, clattering noisily by the sudden motion. Unprepared, Daenerys jerks backwards by the force and she readies herself for a fall.
But Arya's hands immediately reach for the falling dragon queen, on instinct. The young Stark managed to grab a hold of Daenerys arm and over her back as she pulls the older woman upwards until a pair of violet eyes enter her vision again. And Arya soon finds herself lost in the violet depth yet again. The pit of her stomach stirs wilder this time as the feel of the older woman's body is consciously wrapped close in her arms.
As their breaths are hot on each other faces, Daenerys notices the young woman's gaze flicked down towards her lips. And she expectantly waits for something to happen. But, before the young woman can act on it the door burst open, breaking their moment and pushing them further apart again.
Missandei comes running inside, still panted. "Your Grace, there's something you need to see." She breathed out.
Seeing that Missandei doesn't comment about their compromising position when she enters the room and about how flushed Arya's face has become, Daenerys reckons something big must have happened. The troubled looks on the Naathi's face only strengthen her guess.
The dragon queen takes a few seconds to right herself before she follows Missandei out of the room with a flustered looking Arya a few steps behind her, as well as the guards. They arrived at the upper deck in record time to find not only Black Wind but all the other vessels have stopped and put in a berth. The soldiers are in position and armed with weapons. Yara Greyjoy and Tyrion are standing at the top of the ship's deck with their back facing them, as the pair looks over the horizons.
Arya closes in towards them then, following Daenerys and Missandei's footsteps as she brushes off the last remnant of a certain silver-haired queen alluring lips from the back of her mind. As her grey eyes focus over the vast ocean in front of her, mirroring the others, the last thing she expects to see is another fleet with a black stag on gold background sails and of a massive red eye with a black pupil beneath a black iron crown supported by two crows. But, those are exactly what the young Stark saw. The hundreds of familiar sigils from one of House Baratheon and of Euron Greyjoy's personal ships and vessels are sailing directly towards them.