In which the battle ensues in fire blood and our little wolf takes her stands as cold as an ice
*Year 304 After Conquest (AC) - New Future*
A sudden wave thrust backwards in a great amount of power, resulting in the ship to sway violently. It is as if the ocean's teasing at the appearance of another fleet that is still sailing towards the Dragon and the Kraken's vessels, with the waves appear to only speed the foreign fleets' course. And as minutes passed, the fleet only grew larger and Arya guessed there are probably around hundreds of ships or more in front of her. As she muses over the possible volume of the foreign vessels, Tyrion's loud voice brings her attention back to her surroundings.
"We don't know what they want yet...it's possible that they want only to talk– to seal a deal perhaps?" he shouts against the loudness of the wind that suddenly blows wildly like a storm about to appear soon.
Arya rejected the Lannister's guesses almost immediately. She had a feeling that today's evening would not be any peaceful than the current moment. Even the wind seems to be mocking them.
"Starting an attack now would be very unproductive." The dwarf continues, looking up at Yara Greyjoy, stopping her from commanding her crew to prepare for an attack.
Yara clenches her jaw tight before her gaze shifted to the silver-haired queen who's listening intently. "Your Grace, that's Euron's fleet... And Euron fucking Greyjoy is incapable of making deals. The man murdered my father, his own brother in cold blood and later, claimed the Salt Throne for himself. He's a vile, unpredictable and cruel man even among the Ironborn." She reasons bitterly.
Daenerys frowns, contemplating between the two that seems to have a point in them.
"I don't think they have any intention to stop." Arya voiced out to no one in particular as her eyes fixed on the coming fleet again. But it was enough to catch the attention of the dragon queen.
Daenerys turns her head then, mirroring the young Stark and the others soon follow. As the former assassin said, the Usurper's fleet and Euron's ships are sailing with unchanged speed towards them. If it goes on any longer, they will only crash against each other and perhaps that is what they had intended. The silver-haired queen reckons they are stupid if they think they can cripple her army in any way. Finally decides that she would rather take an offensive stance rather than defensive, she is about to open her mouth to voice her command, when an unexpected movement from one of the Baratheon's ship caught her attention.
It was a tiny red-orange ball that flew upward from the ship and into the sky. However, it doesn't stay that long up the sky because after a moment passes, it goes down and falls to her direction. And then, it grows bigger and bigger until the dragon queen realizes that the now huge ball is literally on fire. Chaos erupted as the men hastily make a retreat when the ball in flame ended up falling towards one of the ships, breaking and vandalising the upper deck of the vessel along the way.
"Is that enough of proof yet?" Yara asked with gritted teeth at the dwarf as she points the burning hole in one of her fleets. Tyrion only managed a grimace.
The Ironborn Captain doesn't need any more consent from the dragon queen, given the anger shown on her face is any indication. Knowing that they both share the same desire to repay the enemy's greeting, Yara walks away and does the first thing she should be doing when her crew spotted the foreign fleet; she orders the men for an attack. Within seconds, several horns blew off, carrying through the distance and alerting the other crews of their next course of actions.
Arya flinches involuntarily as the noise of the horns loudly surrounds the vast ocean. It reminds her of when the Titan of Braavos welcomed her with similar horn sound, only this time the young woman is sure that she will not be feeling excited after.
The Ironmen scatter in an orderly manner as Yara Greyjoy commanded them to take their position. Even the Dothraki and the Unsullied seems to be ready for the upcoming mayhem.
"Your Grace, it's unsafe for you to be out here," Jorah speaks up then, just as the second of the many upcoming balls of fire launch in the air again at the same time, successfully pulling everyone's attention to the enemy's fleet.
The first one was nowhere in comparison to the current sightings of what's happening when the balls of flame rain upon them and Arya decides that if the world would somehow end, it would involve something similar to the one she witnessed at this moment. The hundreds of flames move towards them like they're tearing apart from the sky itself. The red trails that the flame left behind remind her of the 'Red Comet' she saw when she's travelled with Yoren to the Night's Watch another lifetime ago.
Or the 'Red Sword' as Gendry called it.Arya thought with a silent melancholy at the memory of a certain blue-eyed boy.
There's a moment of complete silence before the many tiny fires that grow bigger by the second fall in crazy chaotic drops onto their ships, creating mass destruction. The young Stark watches the chaos silently from where she stands as the war erupted further. A natural reaction would be as Jorah said; to find a safe place other than the openly upper deck they currently at, but Arya finds no will to do so when her feet stay rooted at the same place bound by the sheer astonishment of what's happening. A familiar velvety voice brings her attention towards it and automatically her grey orbs focus on the face of the woman who has been unexpected stirring feelings and desires even she doesn't know existed.
"I will not hide and cower in a corner while these men–my men, fight this battle," Daenerys speaks up with a determination on every inch of her features as she gives a pointed look to Jorah, daring him to disagree with her. Finding the resigned look on him, her eyes stray to the others in the same notion and they too seem to have nothing to add.
The steel grey orbs are the last Daenerys sets upon and they were staring back at her with such intensity that she almost got lost in them again. But, thankfully she didn't have to dwell on them further when a shriek of her children snaps her back to the reality of the ongoing war, successfully tearing the connection between the young woman.
Drogon comes flying out of nowhere towards where its mother is and within seconds it was hovering near the upper deck of Black Wind. Taking that as an invitation, Daenerys manages one last glance at her advisors and at a certain young Stark before fixing Yara another glance, which the Ironborn Captain returns with a nod. The silent exchange didn't go unnoticed by Arya as she sends Daenerys away, climbing onto Drogon's wing soon after.
As soon as Daenerys was seated in her usual place at Drogon's back, the black-red dragon pushes itself upward and goes charging towards the enemies' fleet. Viserion and Rhaegal flew close behind them.
Arya watches silently as the dragon queen's form grow smaller and further away from the scene of destruction. She expects nothing less from Daenerys when the older woman decides to be in the front-line of her army, but no one can protect her up there in the sky. Sure, she has the dragons but all it takes is one stray arrow or those damn fireballs that could have hit her. The young Stark made a mental note to insist the dragon queen on wearing at least armour plate later.
The thought of finding safety seems trivial now since the queen herself is out there, especially at the head of the battle. And as minutes go by, the fleet only seems to be closer towards them. It was getting close enough when the young Stark able to make out the men that are standing on the deck of one of the Baratheon's vessels that is sailing towards them.
"I take it you know how to wield a sword?"
Arya turns her head to the voice to find Yara offering her a shortsword, which some of the Ironmen along the Unsullied are currently using. "Yes." She answered, taking the hilt of the sword in her grip.
Yara nodded in approval before handing over another shortsword at Tyrion who is standing beside her.
"Well, I don't know how to wield a sword... And don't we need armour or some sort? Preferably the one with metal plates and chain-mail." Tyrion asked then as he took the offered sword albeit reluctantly.
"Metal plates and the ocean are not the best pair. And if you fell into the sea, it'll only weigh you down." Yara answered, fixing her gaze on him.
"It matters not once we die from getting a stab in the gut first." The dwarf remark dryly.
"Don't worry Lord Tyrion, stay close to me and you might survive this," Yara assured with a slight smirk before she fixed her gaze at Arya again. "Same goes for you, Lady Arya...but not too close or I might accidentally cut you."
Arya let the title slips past, not bothering to correct it when she finally understood the brief exchange Yara has with Daenerys earlier. She should feel touched by the dragon queen's concern but when that said person flew off to the hundreds of the enemy's fleet alone and not caring about her own safety in return only drowns the gratitude she felt. "I can take care of myself... I don't need any protection." She said back through a clenched jaw. She should be with Daenerys and protect her instead. That was after all that she swore to do when she pledged herself to the Targaryen Queen.
Yara stares silently at the determined grey orbs in front of her contemplating the young woman statement. Even if she believed the young Stark's words, she still has to abide by the dragon queen's wishes and truth be told, Arya is worth more alive than dead in this war. But, the girl had a reputation of surviving years in the fighting pit and she believed Arya is more than capable in taking care of herself. So, Yara tilted her head in acknowledgement at the young woman not wanting to antagonize her further and turns to the real problem instead.
Just as the first waves of flying flaming balls ended, the second waves of thousands of arrows hit them a moment after. Arya curses under her breath as she realizes she has nowhere to hide on the open deck she stands. She swallows a lump as she grips the hilt of the shortsword tightly and readies herself for the incoming rain of arrows. Before she can take action on the closing arrows, a jerk on her right-hand pulls her down and she ends up crouching. The shimmering black eyes of Yara Greyjoy enter Arya's line of vision then and she finally notices they were hiding under a wooden shield big enough for the two of them to take cover.
It was seconds after when the sound of the arrows drops heavily in each part of the vessel. Arya takes that moment to study her surroundings and she breathes in a relief when Missandei and Grey Worm are huddling together in their own shield. The same goes for Tyrion and Jorah a few feet from them.
When the arrows finally ended showering upon them, Yara stands up and tosses away the shield, turning towards her men then. "That is the second attack those fuckers gave us. What are we still waiting for? To be fucked the third time?!" she seethes, particularly at the Ironmen. "Now, show them what the Kraken is capable of!"
The men scream in return as they prepare for a counter-attack that was interrupted before. The archers step forward then in formations as they light the tip of their arrows with fire and place them on their bow.
"Nock!" Yara shouts and soon after the command carries through several ships near them. "Draw!" she continues turning around to the enemy then. "Loose!"
The arrows released in several sets of intervals as the command carried through. But it was a success nonetheless, as the hundreds of arrows fly in the opposite direction this time. And Arya felt content for a moment as the fleet opposite them bathes in flaming arrows. But, it only lasts for a while when she caught sight of the less fortunate men that are too slow to take cover. And when Drogon, Viserion and Rhaeghal come into view and breathes fire to the remaining vessels that are too far to reach by the flaming arrows, she doesn't know how to feel about that. She tries not to dwell on the fact that there are men on those vessels and that they are currently being burnt alive. But somehow their desperate screams manage to enter her ears or perhaps she was just imagining them when it was actually the wind that is blowing wildly. She didn't even realize her hands are shaking as she watches silently the horrifying battle ensued before her.
Time must have gone by for some time because the next thing the young Stark realizes, her breath got knocked out from her as she landed unceremoniously down the floor. Her sword clatters against it as she loses her grip. Arya looks up in a daze to find a man flashing his rotten smile down at her, looking quite pleased with himself.
She can feel her pulse pounding in her head and she tries hard to focus on what's happening, but her brain fogs up and her thoughts go nowhere at all. When the man approaches her closer with a raise of his sword, definitely deciding to strike the final blow at her, he ends up falling down her feet instead. Arya blinks hard at the fallen man and at his torn flesh on his back. Blood was gushing through the open wound and she swallows bile down her throat.
"I thought you said you don't need protecting." A voice brought her back from her reverie and she looks up to find Yara, her sword already stained with blood.
The former assassin took Yara's offered hand and pulls herself upward again. She reaches for her fallen sword soon after before taking the scene around her. And it was chaos surrounding the vessel. A few of the Baratheon's ships and Euron's fleet had already managed to trespass the Targaryen and Yara's vessel. The men are all engaged in a fight one way or another and Arya wonders just how long she had lost herself in her own world again.
Taking a deep breath and trying to calm her nerves, she turns around to face the Ironborn Captain, remembering her question again. "I don't," Arya answered with all the confidence she could muster. Yara shot her a judgmental look before finally giving the young woman a nod, leaving her alone once again and help her men cut down another Baratheon soldier.
The sickening smell of burning flesh is blanketing the air in a choking aroma and Arya swallows the burning smell that violates her nose. It doesn't help that the wind whipped around wilder this time. And when the sound of crying and screaming men enters her ears and the sight of them whimpering in pain and clutching their grievous wound sinks down in her mind, the young woman senses are in a full alert then. The terrible moment was interrupted however when a man wearing an armour of a stag shows up from nowhere, slashing his way through the young Stark with his longsword. Luckily for her, she was ready then and with a turn of her body, she managed to sidestep the attack before awarding the soldier a blow to his head by the hilt of her sword, rendering him unconscious.
She decides to look around then, taking another step among the chaos and fights her way through, leaving unconscious men–that decides to get in her way, along her trail. But, amidst the sea of people, she had not yet seen anyone familiar. It was even harder to recognize which one of them are foes and which are allies. It was truly maddening and Arya feels suffocated by the sight of it. The flashback from the Kingsroad attack comes involuntarily then as the sight before her keeps changing. She sees her father fell down on his knees before another Ironborn man takes his place and falls down completely in his own pool of blood.
Arya shakes her head repeatedly, willing her mind to stay focus. She tries to even her erratic breathing but when a flash of pale blonde hair caught her attention, it only grows harder. Jamie Lannister's figure emerges then as he raises his sword in the air to strike the final blow to her father. The scene was interrupted however when a man lunges forward to her instead. Arya deflects his attack just barely as he recovers and screams at her like a madman he is before plunging his sword at her face. The former assassin escapes the sharp blade by a hairbreadth and swings her sword to his attacking arm in retaliation. His sword falls and clatters loudly on the deck despite the obvious noise that surrounds them. He whimpers in pain as he grips his bleeding hand.
When she caught sight of the blonde hair at the corner of her eye for the second time; she thought her mind is playing tricks again, but the familiar mismatch orbs and the face she knew too well shakes away her doubt. She notices how frightened the Lannister dwarf looks and judging by his opponent, she knew why anyone would feel that way. The man is twice the size of even a normal man should be and the fact that he decides to pick a fight with a dwarf of all the people in this ship makes the young woman's eyes twitch at the sight. A surge of rage suddenly churns from within her. She never liked a bully, to begin with, and right now the soldier is taunting Tyrion, knowing that he stood no chance against him.
Arya is about to teach the half-giant a lesson when suddenly the man from before decides to throw himself at her from behind. Unprepared, the young Stark stumbles down the wooden floor with him on top, knocking the wind out of her. She groans in pain at the hard fall that her head took and tries to get away from his body-trap but to no avail. The man sits atop, putting all his body weight on her and caught both her hands with his.
"Get the fuck away from me!" she growls and twists her body in the side to get him imbalanced and off of her.
Though, it only had the opposite effect when he screams back at her face, before moving both his hands to her neck in a stronghold, blocking her air supply. Panic starts to creep in the young woman as she gasps for air but none could come through her lungs. Desperately, she reaches for his throat, trying to strangle him back, or punch his face, and poke his eyes but it only came out as a weak attempt as he manages to dismiss them all. She tries moving her body again but it seems her strength must have been subdued when the man on top of her doesn't even flinch.
Arya shuts her eyes tight trying to withstand her burning lungs and how lightheaded she feels. With each seconds pass, little by little, the chaos surrounding her become deafening until a clattering sound echoes loudly through her ears. She wills her eyes to flutter open again and immediately her grey orbs are drawn to a scene where the Lannister dwarf is. She forces her head to turn to the direction to get a clearer view, with the man's grip still around her neck– and find that Tyrion sword is lying on the floor. He backs away as his opponent approaches with a raise of his striking arm. The look of Tyrion's defeated face reminds her of how her father looked at her for the last time during the Kingsroad attack.
Her breathing wavers wildly at the scene and the rage from before boils inside her again. Arya turns to her strangler then and fixed the mad man a furious gaze. Gathering every bit of strength she has left, the young wolf reaches for a finger on her neck and twists it towards his wrist until the sweet, crunchy, dislocating sound fills her ears. The mad soldier's eyes widen in shock and his screams of agony fill the air in return. But, his grip does not seem to loosen, so she decides to take another finger with her other hand. Same as before, she twists it with all the strength she could muster until it ended with a satisfying crack. It took another finger to break before he finally let go and get off of her, rolling over to mend over his injuries in whimpers.
Wasting no more time, the young woman wobbles her way towards where Tyrion is, reaching for her sword along the way. When the half-giant is about to strike, Arya raises her sword in return and pushes the metal blade right through the only place that is not armoured then; at the back of his head. The sound of metal cutting through flesh proved that he will pose no threat now just as the thud of his body fell down soon after.
Arya focuses her attention at Tyrion then, gasping for air as she closes in. But, the emerald and black eyes in front of her only stare back lifelessly. It was as if he's not even here anymore. She is about to ask him if he's alright when the sudden blood come rushing down his head and the skin on his forehead splits open, down until his chin. Her breath stuck in her throat at the sight. When Tyrion sways and his feet finally gave in, she manages to catch hold of him, cushioning his fall.
"Tyrion." She calls, shaking him softly. His eyes are shut completely now and his blood flows down to her hands that are holding him against her. And he shows no sign that he even heard her calling.
Her body moves in a defensive stance as she drags the half-man to the most secluded part of the ship and stays there to watch the sea of people around them battling each other. Arya doesn't know for how long she sat there, at a corner, cradling Tyrion's head in one of her arm and the other free to wield the sword at anyone who dares to close in. Only when the screams and shouting of men seem to subside and the familiar face of Grey Worm comes running towards them both, she lets go of the sword.
"Is he..." Grey Worm trails as he takes in the state of the Lannister dwarf, frowning at the possibility.
"I don't know." Arya breathes out, tiredly.
The Unsullied Commander reaches for Tyrion's neck then, deciding to check his pulse himself. "He is alive." He stated with a sigh of relief.
He stands up then and shouts in his mother tongue at someone across the deck. Not long after, two Unsullied soldiers run towards them with a stretcher before taking Tyrion from her arms. Arya let them as the last words that Grey Worm said keeps repeating inside her ears. She should be happy that Tyrion somehow manages to survive this but the guilt keeps gnawing on her and all she keeps thinking is how she had failed him, just as how she had failed her father and Sansa.
*
They had won the first battle of the many to come and most of the Queen's soldiers; the Ironmen, Unsullied and the Dothraki managed to survive the attack but some, still perished by the enemy's blade, and more suffered grievous injuries. The Baratheon and Euron fleets seem to have only one hundred vessels strong which was why it was an easy win. Not to mention the dragons are certainly the key player in securing the victory. The Ironborn Captain believed that the enemy fleet had larger in numbers but they may have separated their course to search for the Targaryen vessel among the vast sea and were given orders to attack once been found. That would explain the lack of an important figure in the Baratheon and Euron's ships. Or perhaps Lord Baratheon and Euron himself are dead, floating somewhere over the ocean and they never had the chance to introduce themselves.
A mirthless chuckle escapes the young Stark involuntarily. That would be such irony and Arya knew better than anyone how Death can fuck you up in the ass and then some more. After all, the God of Death was her friend, foe and companion. She knew how it was. It wasn't kind. It snatched where it can, take people who are far too young, far too good. It didn't pretend to care, it didn't pretend to distinguish. And every person Arya has come to know, to love, to care; they will end up being seized by Death somehow in some way and she wonders if perhaps she was cursed by Death itself.
Which is why when she caught sight of the familiar faces of old man Xander and Derwin among the pile of bodies they gathered for burial in the deep sea, the young Stark felt the hollow inside her chest is starting to dig its way again. She was angry. She knew that. But, not at the God of Death because this is what it does after all. She was angry at herself for letting these people in, to let her feel something again after a long time. And she decides it must stop now before she goes in far too deep and gets lost in there for eternity. When the other men start to drop the lifeless bodies one by one onto the ocean, and Derwin's sky blue eyes stare at her for one last time, it was in that moment Arya tossed away her feelings together with them.
Even the sun seems to concur when it's starting to disappear and daylight slowly fades away. The young Stark decides to retire to her cabin then to get some rest. But, as soon as she turns around, a familiar figure stops her action. Daenerys walks closer to where she was and Arya wonders just how long she's been there. Her silver hair smeared with dirt, creating black smudges that go along her cheeks as well. But as far as the young Stark can tell, the dragon queen has no grievous injuries on her person.
Daenerys stops her track with a few steps separating them as she debates from within on what to say. "Are you alright?" she settles and regretted how stupid it sounds soon after.
Arya knows the dragon queen meant well, but she cannot wipe off the bitterness the question held. "I'm alive and we won the battle. Isn't that what matters." She answered calmly. The dragon queen held a questioning gaze at the young woman.
"Arya-"
"I'm tired, Your Grace... I would like to retire, if I may?" Arya interrupted then.
Daenerys doesn't like how cold the young woman's tone was and how emotionless she's suddenly become. Perhaps it was just a long day for all of them as she decides to grant her leave. "You should take that bruise looked after."
Arya wanted to say the bruise along her neck is the least painful wound she felt right now, but instead, she managed a nod and a quick bow at the dragon queen before walking away with heavy steps. She shrugs the last image of how hurtful the violet eyes looked at her before emerging herself with the familiar shadows in the lower deck.
*
The Targaryen fleet continues on its journey after some mending and repairing were done in the last couple of days. They had lost a quarter of their ships due to the last battle. But, luckily for Black Wind, it still sails strong with only a few holes that the Ironborn can take care of. As such, a few days later they were back in the ocean, splitting the sea apart.
And during all those days, the young Stark had distanced herself from everyone else, keeping true to her own promise. With them all being occupied of the aftermath of the battle only ease her way then. She decides there is no need to be in the others' constant presence when she can watch them from afar anyway. Arya has been telling herself repeatedly that its better this way, especially for a certain dragon queen. Sentimental feelings are worthless when one own life is involved and Arya knows Daenerys would thank her for it later if the older woman knows how she had escaped being cursed by Death.
A loud flap sound snaps her thoughts then and the young Stark look up to the starry night to find the famous black-red dragon is flying towards the vessel. Arya narrows her eyes to look better when she swears she saw a flash of silver on top of Drogon. Her intuition is proved right when the dragon finally flew past her on top of the crow's nest and down to the deck. Arya wastes no more time climbing down the railing and the spars then.
Just as Daenerys climbs down Drogon, her attention drawn at the figure of the young Stark who's been climbing her way down swiftly as if she's done this many times before. A light chuckle escapes her as she finally able to connect the missing pieces from the race that seems to happen a long time ago. Her feet naturally brought her forward just when Arya finally landed and does the same, until they both meet in the centre. "Why do I have a feeling that you've been up there more than once even before the race?" she asked lightly. But her smile vanishes when the young woman in front of her fixed her a raging glare.
"What do you think you're doing?" Arya asked instead, stopping at arm's length. Seeing the confused look on the older woman only enrages her further. How can the older woman casually be out there all alone when there are claimed that the enemy's fleet is wandering along the ocean in search for her? "You can't go out there all alone when there are people trying to murder you." She finished with a twitch of her eye, barely keeping it together.
Daenerys blinks a few times at the young woman before she can understand what's been said. A smile threatens to escape the dragon queen again as she witnesses Arya's angered face. She decides she likes it better than the emotionless one the young woman seems to wear the past few days.
"I thought you wouldn't care," Daenerys said back.
The word jolt the young Stark back to her usual self. She takes a deep breath then, regaining her composure. "I swore to protect you and it can only be done when you're alive." She answered.
The young woman's tone is now back to the calm and calculated one and Daenerys instantly hated it. She takes another step then, closing their distance. "Is that all you truly felt, Arya? Do you feel nothing else?" she whispers. Arya clenches her jaw tight at the familiar stirs deep in her gut that the older woman seems to cause when she's getting too close for her liking.
Daenerys studies the depth of the grey orbs in front of her like her life depends on it. It was hard enough for her to acknowledge that her feeling for the young woman was real. After all, it took her a few sleepless nights later to finally accept it as it is. But to say it out loud is another matter entirely. And she has been meaning to speak about it to the person responsible since the first time she learnt about it. So, she gathers all the courage she has and softens her gaze on Arya before reaching out to her hand.
The first graze of their fingers send shivers through Daenerys body- and she notices the same reaction on the young woman in front of her before she slowly reached to fully take Arya's hand in hers. She was about to say something when the young Stark interrupted.
"What are you doing?" Arya asked, frowning and lowering her eyes then; successfully breaking their intense gaze before she pulls her hand away from the older woman's grip too.
Daenerys shoves away the hurt at the rejection as she tries again. "You know what I'm doing. Isn't it obvious or do I need to spell it out to you?" she asked, perhaps a bit straight forward than she'd have liked. But, the dragon queen knew that the young woman felt the same connection as she did since the last kiss they shared last time.
Arya takes a step back, away from the older woman then. "Whatever this is that you're doing, Your Grace..." she trails as her eyes meet violet ones again. The obvious care in the older woman's eyes almost suffocating. Deciding she should end this once and for all, she hardens her gaze. "I'm afraid you have mistaken. All I feel towards you is nothing more than an oath. You're my duty and I will serve you as long as I'm capable. But, I cannot serve you more than that... Perhaps, when we reach White Harbor, I can propose the most favoured brothels. You can have any lad or lass as much as you desire then."
She expected that the dragon queen would be angered by her sharp remark but instead, it was the opposite. The look on Daenerys faces soon after only breaks the young woman's heart to million of pieces if it's still there, that is. The silent night was deafening to her ears as Arya waited for the older woman's response. And with each seconds pass, it only strengthens her regret.
"I see. Perhaps I should." Daenerys said as she slowly turns away, trying to hide the sadness in her eyes. "We have a long journey still ahead of us...sleep well, Arya."
The young Stark stares silently at Daenerys retreating form. Her knuckles turn white and her nails painfully biting down her skin as she clenches her fists tightly. She keeps telling herself that this was the right thing to do, but somehow, the older woman's disheartened look tells her otherwise. She would be damned, but she swears she would pay a lifetime for saying that hurtful word to the older woman though she decides she wouldn't mind that punishment at all.