In which hard choices have to be made one way or another
*Unknown*
Arya was on the ground with her face up and her arms at her sides. Her back was against something cool and it didn't bother her that much as she thought it would. In fact, the ground was soft and almost comforting. When she moves her fingers, they graze at the soft grass she was lying on. The sky was blue and clear and when the wind blew the leaves flew out into wherever the wind decides to take them.
She moves her head to a tilt and her gaze landed on a tree where the leaves were falling off from. Slowly, she pushes herself up, first with her elbows and then her legs, all the while her eyes never leaving the huge peculiar lonesome tree. As she walks toward it, she didn't bother to check her surrounding since there was nothing else around her aside from an open field, more or less the same.
The bark of the tree felt warm as her palm lay on it. She stared down at it for a while as she has the strange feeling of something else was supposed to be there instead. The thought didn't go far as her feet move to walk around it, deciding to investigate where this place could be. The young woman stops short as she finds a small river across and there was someone sitting by the river bank. Whoever it was, his back was facing her as he sits there in silence. Oddly, Arya feels like she knew who it was even though she can't see his face yet. She strides and joins him at his side.
"Bran." She called.
Her brother turns his head. "Hello, Arya." A small smile at the corner of his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Instead of answering, Bran turns back ahead with a faraway look. Not really bothered by the lack of response, Arya decides to do the same and got lost in the calming surroundings. The water was streaming along the small rocks down the river creating a rush of sound that almost swallowed everything else. "What is this place?" she asked again after a while. But, Bran was still silent. "Do you know where we are, Bran?" Her last question comes a little pressed and Bran must have noticed because he finally answered.
"It's the only way I'm able to reach you." He was still looking ahead.
A slight frown graced her features as she looks at him. "Reach me?"
He turns to her then. His blue orbs lock into her grey ones in a way that Arya cannot break away even if she wants to.
"Do you remember what happened?" he replied with another question.
His inquiry goes unanswered as she takes the time to properly study the person in front of her. Her gaze stays rooted in blue orbs for a while, remembering the last time she saw them; they were frightened instead of calm. And then she moves to the line of his face. His jaw is more pronounce and his face is that of a young man instead of a boy that she had last seen.
Speaking of that boy, Arya remembered the last thing that she saw was the younger Bran. As he looked down to her, his pale and horrid face grew further and further away. She remembered the wind that viciously slapped her back until another sickening thud caught her. She remembered then.
"I fell down the Broken Tower." She whispered but it was loud enough for Bran as his eyes light up at her words.
"You saved me." He concurs waiting for the grey eyes to focus back at him.
Arya blinks once before she did. "You were about to fall off but then I pushed you back up the wall." Yes. She remembered now.
"Why did you do it?"
A beat of silence fell upon them as the young woman's confusion grew at the question.
"Why did you save me, Arya?" Bran asked again, a little impatience this time.
"You're my brother." She finally said as she holds her gaze firmly to challenge him. "And you're welcome." She quipped.
Bran's gaze softens at that. He let out a sigh barely audible for Arya to notice if not for the close proximity they shared and the lack of other distractions around them. "I wouldn't wish it even on my worst enemy." He paused looking forlorn before continues. "When I realized that I can't walk…that I have lost the use of my lower body completely, that I can't ever climb on anything ever again, it was probably the worst day of my life. But, I've come to realized that that's not the worst part of it… No. The worst part is that from that day onwards, every day I wake up, I have to depend on other people… Everything I wore and ate, I had to sit and wait for it to be given to me. I can't even have the satisfaction to relieve myself without someone assisting."
"You don't have to experience that now, Bran... I saved you, so everything will be alright now." Arya quickly intercepts. Her heartache for what her brother had to go through.
"You're right, I don't… But, now you have to."
Arya opens her mouth to retaliate but she didn't go far when the blue eyes in front of her stared back with such intensity and softness both at the same time. She recalls his last words, as she tries to understand.
"I'm dead, am I not? Is that not why I'm here?"
Bran keeps his mouth shut but he didn't have to say anything for Arya to guess what his answer to her question would be.
"There is no way that I survived that fall, Bran." She said again, trying to convince the both of them.
"I survived it before." He offered.
The rushing sound of water streaming down the river becomes louder as seconds go by when Arya said nothing in return. Slowly, she breaks away from his gaze and looks down to her feet. Her bare feet are soaked into the river as the water flow around her toes. She wiggles them slightly and the water ripples at the force. "So, I'm a cripple." It wasn't much of a question. She knew she was one if what Bran said is any truth and if she had survived the fall, there is probably going to be a repercussion. Perhaps it's why she was stuck in this strange place with Bran acting as her subconscious in the first place. She must be in a comatose state after the fall.
"You shouldn't have saved me, Arya… You shouldn't do anything at all." Bran speaks up again.
Arya can't help the mirthless chuckle escaping her. Of course, her subconscious would blame herself for everything that had happened. Even in her comatose state, she can't escape the reprimand.
"Yes, I should have just let things as it is. I should let my brother be a cripple for the rest of his life. I should do nothing to save father and Sansa from their horrible and unjust deaths. I should just let Robb and Mother be slaughtered and their bodies maimed. And then, I should let Theon burn you and Rickon to crisp. And I should let Jon walks to his death at Castle Black. Even though for some unknown reason, I've been thrown back in time and I have the chance to change things for the better… I should have done nothing and just let it play out as it was supposed to be. I should let everyone die and then let myself die too." She finished cynically.
Bran closed his eyes as another sigh escaped him tiredly. "Those things– those horrible things that happened to our family are supposed to happen. There is not a single way to undo them and erase them." He opens his eyes then. "You can't change things without affecting everything else; without affecting every other people and eventually affecting the order of the world."
Arya stared back silently. It was strange, to say the least, what Bran – or her subconscious – was saying. "The order of the world?" she begins softly, confused more than anything. "What does that even mean?" She can't help the snorts that came out soon after. It seems her dream is becoming more ridiculous as time goes by.
Bran let it slide. "When you put a stop to a certain event playing out, you're not stopping it completely from happening…it merely diverges into a different direction until it eventually plays out again." he tries again in all seriousness.
"Uh-huh…alright, if you say so." She blurts out looking ahead instead. Even in her dreams, she sounded bonkers. Perhaps she already is and everything that happened is in fact one crazy, insane dreams.
"Daenerys isn't supposed to die but you let that happened."
Arya stiffened. Her throat constricts on itself at the name being mentioned and there was a burning at the back of her eyes as the memories of the older woman assaulted her mind. Slowly, she turns to Bran again. "What did you just say?" she asked through gritted teeth.
His gaze softens then but not by much as he regards her carefully now that he has her attention. "When you killed Cersei in her trial, you managed to save Robb and Mother but you didn't stop the Red Wedding completely from happening, Arya… Not really. It merely diverges into separate courses until it finally happened again, but this time under different circumstances albeit it was more of the same."
She shakes her head slightly. "What the hell are you saying, Bran?" There is a thumping at the back of her head now. His words juggled inside her mind as she tries to shake off the guilt that threatened to swallow her whole.
"You cannot change things, Arya." Bran insists. "You cannot change things or someone else is going to die because of it…someone who is not supposed to."
And that someone is Daenerys.
He didn't say the last sentence but somehow Arya managed to hear it all the same. Her breaths quicken as her guilt doubled. Even in her comatose state, she can't have peace. Perhaps it's because she didn't deserve one.
Why should I? I screwed everything up. Everyone's gone and now Daenerys is gone too.
Her fingers curl into fists as she closes her eyes tight willing the image of Daenerys eyes filled with agony as the knife pierce her heart to go away. But, the action only makes the experience clearer as there are no other things but the imminent dark to interrupt her.
"Listen to me, Arya. You can't change things." Bran's voice gets through. But then so do the others.
'The rightful Queen of Westeros arises… It seems your numbers didn't matter, after all, Your Grace. Your dragons are not here… Your armies are not here to save you… You already lost the war before it even started.'
No. Stop!
'You should know that my voice, asterribleas it may sound…comes with a high price. I'm afraid you would have to pay more than just a simple thank you, my little wolf.'
Please, just stop…
'Arya, my child, you will never lose me as long as you keep me inside your heart… The day your horrible dream comes true will be the day that when pigs are able to fly, do you hear?'
Stop…
'And most importantly, I love you, Arya Stark.'
Gods… Please.
"–do you understand, Arya?"
"Shut up!" Her body trembled as her voice finally comes out. "Just shut up, please." She whimpered.
And for a moment everything was silent. The voices inside her head were no more and the surrounding around her was nothing but quiet except for her shaky breathing. Arya lets herself drifts further into the dark abyss. She didn't know for how long the silence lasted but as she pried her eyes open, the river in front of her was nowhere in sight and when she looks at her side, Bran is not there anymore.
Little by little, the surrounding around her disappeared then as the dark swallowed them until she was left alone with nothing but the familiar and pitch dark. Her breathing comes in short spurts as she turns and turns searching for something other than the blackness engulfing her whole. She stops moving then and closes her eyes tight. Her hands at the sides of her head as she tries to calm her breathing.
"It's alright, Arya…" a disembodied voice sounded but she recognized it almost instantly.
Bran was standing not far from her. She tried to call him but her voice wouldn't come out.
"Remember what I said," he said again and then of a sudden, there was a heavy wind slapping her back and she was slipping further and further away from the young man until the darkness decides to swallow him too.
~~~
*Year 298 After Conquest (AC) – New Past*
Arya wakes up with a start. Her breathing heavy as if she had run a mile even though she found herself lying still on her bed. She blinks the daze away as she slowly calms her breathing to normal again. Slowly, her surrounding comes into focus. There was a crackling sound of something burning and as she tilts at the direction, she found the hearth's fire is at an ember.
She stared at the dying fire a bit more as she tries to gather her thoughts. Before she can do that, however, a loud caw breaks her concentration. Almost instantly, her head snapped at where the sound was coming from and a pair of black eyes stared back. The black raven caw again making her flinch at the loud sound before it flies away from the opened window and into the blue sky leaving her alone.
A slight frown adorned her features as she tries to make sense of what's happening. The last thing she remembered was–
Bran.
She swallowed a lump dryly then. That's right. She remembered Bran in her dreams.
Or was it real?
Something was moving at the end of her bed then, interrupting her thoughts once again and before she decides to investigate the cause of it, a large snout enters her vision instead. And then a pair of golden orbs bore into hers not a moment after. She felt herself stiffen though it lasted only for a second as she instantly recognized who they belong to.
"Nymeria." Her voice came out hoarse as she swallowed another lump down her dry throat. Nonetheless, the golden eyes in front of her shine with eagerness at her name being called.
Nymeria moves forward then, softly nudging Arya's head a couple of times as the girl tries to prop herself up. A small smile crept at the corner of the young girl's lips as she reaches for the direwolf then, stroking her side in return, content with the direwolf's warmth and contact over her body. The direwolf has grown quite a bit since Arya last saw her and as she settled on top of her, Arya can't wipe away the strange feeling creeping inside as she couldn't feel Nymeria's weight, particularly her lower body which the direwolf had mostly occupied.
Gingerly, she sits up straighter and beckoning Nymeria away. The direwolf followed through and immediately moved away. Arya took the chance to remove the blanket with a shaky hand, revealing her legs. There were there, still attached to her body but as she tries to move them, they stay the same, unmoving. Sweat was beginning to trail down her forehead as she concentrates to at least wiggle her toes. But, as before, her efforts deem fruitless.
There was a pause in the air as the young girl merely stared down at her unresponsive limbs, confused as to what was happening. Seconds turn to minutes and all the while, her legs still remain in the same state as the first time she saw them. Something akin to rage and disbelief course through her veins as she decides to step away from her bed, one way or another. She ignored how leaden her legs feel as she carried them over the bed. She also ignored the fact that her feet didn't feel the smooth stone floor under them. All she cared about is to get out of the bed. So, with a huff, she pushed herself forward.
Almost as fast as her body straighten in the air, her feet buckle underneath her, sending her to the ground with a loud thud. Arya curses under her breath as her face greets the hard floor. Nymeria was instantly at her side nudging her softly again.
The young girl only grits her teeth with frustration as she stays down on all four, ignoring the direwolf distress call. Even when a creak sounded not much later, she paid it no heed as she was too preoccupied with her own swirling of emotions at the moment.
"Seven Hells, Arya!" A voice caught her attention then. She looks up and saw her brother, Robb looking down at her with wide eyes.
He puts away the tray he's been holding on her bed. The contents spilling onto the sheets as he practically tosses it away and runs to her side.
"Are you alright?" He asked frantically as he crouched down and pulled her up from the ground.
But, Arya doesn't need it. She doesn't need help to get up from the floor. "Stay away!" she snapped, pushing him aside.
Robb stilled at that. He looks back at her silently with soft eyes and Arya hated them.
"Arya…" he called, slowly approaching her again.
"Stay the fuck away! I can get up myself." She growled back.
At the same time, the door creaks open again and someone comes in. The young girl doesn't even acknowledge the new addition as her gaze stay rooted to her brother, challenging him to come close.
"M'lord?" someone called hesitantly then.
Robb doesn't tear his gaze from her either. "Leave us." He ordered firmly.
Whoever it was, they don't need to be told twice as the door close back with a thud. Robb was kneeling now in front of her – within an arm's reach, watching her silently as if no one had interrupted them.
Arya straightens her back then, trying to appear taller than him despite her awkward position. "I can get up myself." She said again, with more conviction this time.
A beat passes as his eyes bore into hers, examining her silently. "Alright." He said, nodding softly.
Without waiting, Arya pushes herself up, using her hands to somehow move her legs, but nothing happened. With a frustrated groan, she tried again and again and again, to no avail. Her breath turns laboured then as she looks down to her unmoving feet. The back of her eyes is starting to burn.
"Why can't I move them?" she grunts to herself. "Why can't I–"
She brought one of her legs to stand only for it to fall down again. She was still breathing heavily even though she did nothing but stay on the floor.
Arya looks up to her brother then. "Robb… I– I can't… I can't move my legs."
His blue orbs were staring back at her with that gentleness again.
"I can't move my legs, Robb." She said again as if things will go differently. Her hands were reaching for him and almost instantly he took them and held them tight in his grasp.
"I can't move my legs." Her voice grew more desperate. Her knuckles turn white from gripping his arms too tight.
But, Robb doesn't flinch at the pressure even though her nails are digging through his sleeves. "Arya…" he called softly.
Her grey eyes focus onto blue ones then. Hoping that her brother will tell her that this is all one big horrible dream and when she wakes up, she can move around freely and able to stand on her own two feet again.
Robb didn't do any of that. Instead, he leans forward to wipe away the tears that fall on her cheeks before wrapping his arms around her and whispered. "I'm sorry, sister."
*
Everything was numb.
She doesn't feel anything, inside and out. Yet her body drained all the same if not more as days pass by. It was pretty ironic to say the least, considering that all she ever did in the past few days were lying in bed and staring at the blank wall – sometimes at the clear sky from her opened window – the whole day, practically doing nothing.
She can't get out of the bed now without assistance. She can't wander outside all alone. She can't run and feel the wind slapping her face anymore. She can't spar. She can't go riding again. And she can't even make conversation with people without biting their heads off in the process. She hated that look they always wore when they spoke to her. That pity. They only add to the reminder that she was a crippled now. A disabled person.
There are a lot of things that she couldn't do now, apparently.
Arya wonders if this is what Bran once felt like when he was a crippled another lifetime ago. The thought of her brother, make her recalled the dream she had. Truth be told, she doesn't know what to make out of it. She remembered it all vividly. What the older Bran was telling her to do – or in this case not to do. Though in her state now, what else can she do now to stop the horrible fate that will catch up to all of her family? What with the limitation of her body and all.
Yes. She was useless now. Of that she was certain.
When Maester Luwin had come by to her room – right after Robb had calmed her down and carrying her back to bed the other day– he gave her a once over on her condition, providing her what she needed to know and what had caused her lower body paralysis. Not that Arya needed it. She remembered it clearly what she chose to do that day when she ran to the Broken Tower.
And then after, he told her why Robb and Rickon were the only ones left in Winterfell.
Her father had gone to King's Landing, accepting the King's offer to become His Hand, bringing Sansa and Bran along with him. Her mother had stayed by her bedside since the day Arya was found under the Broken Tower. But, the older woman had some important matter to tend to and left home a week before she had woken up. Arya noticed how there was a slight pause as Maester Luwin mentioned her Mother before he continued but she ignored it.
And Jon was gone too as he had finally decided to go to The Wall, swearing to the Night's Watch. She felt another burning but this time from inside her chest at the last information. To know that Jon didn't wait for her to wake up before he left, disheartened her. But, the feeling was gone as fast as it came, drowning her in that numbness again.
Arya can only listen as Maester Luwin spoke. Robb was watching her carefully from the other side of her bed, no doubt sporting that tenderness in his eyes again. She ignored him, more for her sake rather than his as she mulls the information silently inside her head.
Time must have gone by because Maester Luwin was looking back at her, waiting expectantly. Waiting for what? She didn't know. Arya heard him clearly yet she couldn't make a reasonable response for it all. She took them as it is and store it away at the furthest place of her mind. She wasn't sure she was ready to face them yet. All she knows is that everything seems to fall back into how things should be. The only difference now was the fact that she had swapped places with her brother, Bran.
When they finally left her to her own solitude again, Arya lay down dutifully as instructed. Nymeria had come back up to her bed and settles comfortably by her side then. The direwolf's presence brings about ease. A familiarity. But, despite it all her eyes remain open, opting to stare at the blank ceiling on top of her head.
When eventually her eyes sting and clouded before something wet touch her temples, she blames it on the fact that she hadn't closed her eyes for hours.
*
It was yet another day as she wakes up and hopes that everything that ever happened was a dream. But, as Nymeria greets her with a lick to her face and her feet remained unmoving, she lets that hope simmer down until it completely gone.
She was doing about her daily routines which consist of staring out into space before someone comes in and tend to her needs when a creak of her door sounded. It was still rather early for anyone to disturb her which is why Arya finds herself looking up to see who it was that had disrupted her schedule for the day.
Theon comes in then, pausing as his gaze bore into her. "You have a visitor." He finally said.
Arya looks away then, staring back into the open window. She heard a sigh escaped him and decides to ignore it too.
"Come on, Arya… Robb wants you in the Great Hall." His voice sounded closer.
A moment passed in silence as she gave no response in return. Theon finally surrendered. "Fine, have it your way… It's better you don't see the imp Lannister anyway," he mumbled the last part but Arya heard it loud and clear.
She snapped her head back at him. "Wait."
Theon halts then as he turns around slowly in surprise. He cocked his eyebrow in question.
"I'll go." She finally accepted.
If the young man was curious as to why the girl suddenly changed her mind, he didn't show it. Instead, he nodded and moves towards her. Reaching under her legs and her lower back, he carried her into his arms before walking out, Nymeria trailing close beside them.
As the walls of the hall passed through, all Arya can think about is the person waiting for her in the Great Hall. She has questions swarming inside her head now.
Why was Tyrion here? Will he somehow remember me? And did he come here alone?
The last one lingers the most inside her head for the rest of the way as Theon carried her to the Great Hall. Her train of thoughts got interrupted when murmurs reached her ears instead. And sure enough, seconds later, Theon enters the archway that leads to the Great Hall.
The moment she entered, the voices inside the hall completely seized. She caught Robb's blue orbs first. His familiar concern gaze directed at her. Maester Luwin was sitting beside him. Nymeria was already settling comfortably by Greywind across the room.
"So, it is true then…you're awake." a familiar voice sounded then.
Arya looks down to find Tyrion standing in front of her. A slight smile at the corner of his lips. "Hello, Arya."
The moment her eyes lay upon the Lannister dwarf, she felt a smile building. "Hello, Tyrion." She greets back. But, as she glances around the hall, a certain silver-haired girl was nowhere in sight. Her smile dies instantly as she buried the ridiculous hope.
Of course Daenerys isn't here. Why would she be when the older girl didn't even know of Arya's existence yet in this timeline?
Tyrion blinks once, in a daze at how the girl casually said his name. He shrugs it off as he spoke again. "How do you feel?"
Arya focused back at the mismatch orbs. "I feel terrible and depressed… Thank you for asking." She answered with a straight face.
There was an awkward silence after her honest outburst. Robb decides to join in then.
"Save the small talk, Lannister. My sister has just woken up only a few days ago and she needs to rest. If you have a point, then I suggest you get on with it." He demands with an authority in his voice.
Arya felt both delighted at her brother's obvious care and afflicted by his perception that she was fragile.
"Unlike others, Lord Stark… I have what people called, manners." Tyrion quipped. Robb only glared silently at that.
The Lannister dwarf focuses back to the young girl then. "Do you mind telling your charming companion to put you down? My neck is beginning to sore from looking up at you."
She heard Theon grumble under his breath, clearly annoyed at being told what to do by the smaller man. Without her saying anything, Theon moves to put her down on one of the benches anyway.
Tyrion moves closer to her then. "I have a gift for you." He offered her a rolled of parchment.
Arya took it and untied the binding. There was a painting of a chair or some sort. Only it has wheels on both sides and its look are strange and peculiar. Before she can voice out her question, the dwarf speaks up again.
"I imagined that it would be uncomfortable and improper for a coming of age lady like you to be carried around in men's arms…so I made this. I planned out the structure for this chair to be specifically tied to your needs. You can move around freely with it… Well, maybe not as freely as before but at least you don't need anyone to carry you around anymore." He explained.
Her grey orbs find him and then at the drawing in silence. There was a spark that is starting to bubble inside her chest. "I get to control the chair?" she asked with disbelief.
Tyrion smiles gently. "It has wheels you see, so yes… You get to move around in it and control it however you wish."
"Thank you." She finds herself smiling genuinely for the first time since she wakes up from her fall. Tyrion nods then, mirroring her action. Arya straightens herself as she regards the dwarf with more conviction. "You don't happen to have another layout plan where I can ride too, do you?" she tried.
Tyrion cocked his eyebrow, surprised. "You like riding?"
"I love to ride." She paused. "Well, I did... I used to." Her smile is gone now as she brushed off the last remnant of hope.
"Had I known that you do, I would have given you this, first." He said suddenly, taking out another roll of parchment from his pocket's robe. Arya took it and untied it hurriedly. She looks down to the opened parchment in bewilderment. There was another painting of some kind of special saddle that ran down until the end of the wearer's foot.
"I had that plan drawn first before I realized that you might not like to ride…" Tyrion trails. Seeing the light in those grey orbs again though, he continues. "Give that to your saddler, he'll provide the rest… You must shape the horse to the rider. Teach it to respond to the reins and to your voice."
"Is this really possible? I can ride again?" she asked quietly.
"You will. On horseback, you'll be as tall as any of them."
They shared a smile as grey eyes locked into mismatch green and black ones.
"Is this some kind of trick?" Robb's voice breaks the moment then. "Why would you want to help her?"
Arya noticed the dwarf was holding an eye roll at the comment but he turns to face her brother instead.
"I have a tender spot in my heart for crippled, bastard and broken things." The dwarf retorts.
She can't help the chuckle that escaped her. Tyrion glanced back to her wearing the same amused expression.
"Will you stay for the day? You must be tired from your journey." Arya offered. In truth, she wanted to spend time with the dwarf a little bit more. She doesn't know why but, she felt an odd feeling of comfort with the man – like meeting with an old friend after a long separation.
"At least someone has the courtesy to be a proper host." He stated a matter-of-fact, all the while giving Robb a side-eye.
She chanced a glance to Robb in question, but her brother was busy shooting daggers through his eyes at the Lannister dwarf.
What had happened here? She thought curiously at the animosity between the two.
"But, I'm afraid I have to decline…" Tyrion continues where he left off, forcing Arya to focus on him again. "There are brothels outside your walls. There, I'll find a bed and both your brother and I can sleep easier."
Even though she was saddened by that, she managed a nod nonetheless, accepting his decision.
"Oh, and before I forgot." Tyrion suddenly said, pulling out another tied parchment from her pocket's robe.
Arya raised an eyebrow. "How many scrolls exactly did you hide in there?"
"This is the last one you'll see." He grinned before offering it to the girl. "This one is a letter from your half-brother, Jon."
Her body stiffens. "You met Jon?"
"I was travelling with him to The Wall. Where he swore in as one of the men for the Night's Watch, I was pissing at the edge of the world... It was fun times." He trailed in reminiscent. When the girl only stared back silently, waiting, he cleared his throat. "Well, Jon asked me to tell you that he misses you and he would visit you if he could."
She gripped the scroll tighter in her hand, pushing that burning in her chest down until the numb takes over. She nods curtly, informing that she heard him loud and clear.
Tyrion decides to excuse himself then seeing that he had no business left there, but Arya stops him. He looked back expectantly at the girl, waiting.
She takes the time to really study him then. At his youthful unscarred face and his light gaze. She can't help but compare the man standing in front of her now with the man she knew from before. The shadows of his eyes are still yet to exist at this moment. And she wonders briefly if they will ever meet again after this. "Thank you, Tyrion." She finally said and she meant every word.
Tyrion shot her a curious look for a moment before he smiles. "You're welcome. I'm disappointed that we haven't had the chance to talk before this… I like you."
"I'm afraid I can't say the same about that."
His grin widens. "Ha! And you're hilarious too." He bids her goodbye not a moment after that and as he walks out of the Great Hall, her smile disappeared with him.
~~~
*Year 304 After Conquest (AC) – Old Future '2nd timeline'*
"I'm fine, Daenerys."
The violet orbs in front gave her a pointed look. "You have an odd definition of 'fine', Stark." Daenerys retaliates. "You do notice the stitcheson your arm from your direwolf's bite, do you not? Or do I have to point it out to you?" she asked and before Arya can answer to that, the older girl dabs the ointment onto the wound with more force than necessary.
Arya flinched at that. "Ow! Are you trying to murder me, woman?" she cradled her injured arm against her chest, away from the perpetrator.
"I thought you said you were fine." The silver-haired girl quipped.
"Not when you try to make another hole in my arm, I'm not."
They shared a look, neither wanted to back down from it. But then, the violet gaze softens and Arya can't help but mirror them too.
"I'm sorry… that was inconsiderate of me." Daenerys finally said. There was sadness in her voice and Arya felt in dismay that she may have been the one that caused it.
"No, it's alright." The young Stark answered. "You're right, Daenerys… I'm not fine. I'm tired and in great pain. But, I don't want to worry you with it. I'll get through them as I always do. So, you need not concern yourself with it at all."
Daenerys smiles at that, although it still held a certain glumness in it before reaching for the girl's injured arm again. She continues dabbing the ointment gentler this time as they fell in comfortable silence.
At the close proximity, Arya can't help but drink the older girl's beautiful features. From her calm and gentle eyes, her long eyelashes to her little nose. And those plump and soft looking lips are just ridiculous. She desperately needs them on hers again.
"Having fun ogling, Stark?" Daenerys looks up then, cocking her eyebrow with a smirk.
Arya blinks a few times to regain her bearing at being caught red-handed. "It's not my fault that you bewitched me so." She huffs.
"Did you just call me a witch?"
The younger girl looks aghast. "Wha– What? No. Of course not. I meant that as a compliment… You captivate me, enchant…fascinate me and enrapture me is all." She babbled.
Daenerys smiles fully before leaning in to capture Arya's lips to effectively shuts her up. The young Stark relaxes almost instantly as the plump and soft lips that she had been unashamedly ogled at were now on hers. She kisses back slowly, savouring every bit of it. It ended too fast to Arya's liking as Daenerys pulls away, still with a smile on her face.
"You bewitched me too," Daenerys admits and Arya feels her heart swell.
As the silver-haired queen finish the last touch of dressing the girl's wound, Arya found herself not wanting their time together to end just yet, so she spoke her mind. "Will you sleep with me?" she flinched at how wrong the words came out.
Daenerys was setting aside the medicine tray on the small table at the centre of the tent when she stops and turns with that trademark smirk of hers, which only makes her none the less bewitching.
Damn her. Arya thought.
"Well, that certainly is the first time someone ever asked me that question," Daenerys replied as she strides to the bed again.
Arya felt her face heats up. "That's not what I meant. I don't want to sleep with you like that–"
Daenerys quirked her eyebrow.
"I mean not now…someday perhaps…when I don't have holes in my arm–"
The silver-haired queen moves to settle herself beside the still talking girl on the bed then, guiding her to lie down before she did the same.
"And when you want it… only if you want it, I can– I mean, we can sleep together, someday perhaps." Arya finally stopped, blinking hard at how close the violet orbs were. She swallowed a lump dryly as she finally noticed Daenerys was already on the bed.
When did this happen? Arya wondered in a daze as her cheeks redden further.
"Do you know how adorable you look right now?" Daenerys asked softly.
Arya closed her eyes, sighing dejectedly. "You mean what a blubbering mess I was?" Daenerys seems to have that effect on her.
The older girl chuckled then. "An adorable blabbering mess… but adorable nonetheless."
The young Stark scowled half-heartedly at being called adorable as she relished in the beautiful sound of Daenerys laughs at the same time. She reached for the blanket as they settled further in the provided warmth. Their faces are mere inches apart from another. And for a while, neither said a word as they look into each others' eyes. Grey against violet ones. Both were content at the other mere existence.
Daenerys had that sad smile again before she decides to break the comfortable silence. "My first husband, Drogo…died of wound infection." She starts, pausing a while before continues. "It was a small cut, barely a scratch, he would say… but he died because of it nevertheless. Of course, the healer had a hand in that. He was poisoning the medicine so it would appear as if Drogo died of natural infections but I caught on to his plan...albeit too late. His infection was already settling in and Drogo died soon after and then I lost my child too."
At that revelation, Arya finally understands why Daenerys was acting strangely after her little incident with Nymeria. The way the older girl's irritation when Arya brushed off her help and then later at her faraway look when she tends to her wounds.
"I'm sorry about your husband and your child…" Arya trailed. "And I'm sorry how reckless I was being the other day, jumping on to Nymeria like that." She can't even begin to imagine if Daenerys was the one on the verge of being in danger. "I'm sorry that I made you worry and that you had to go through all of that."
Daenerys smiles again and this time it was serene and peaceful. "It's almost funny how these awful things that happen made me realized what's important and what's not." There was a thoughtful look as the violet orbs held her gaze.
"People tend to not see what's in front of them until they lost sight of it," Arya adds on absentmindedly.
"People are such an idiot, aren't they?" Daenerys asked, playfully.
Arya chuckled lightly. "Yes… They certainly are."
~~~
*Year 298 After Conquest (AC) – New Past*
That dream was the start of hell for the young Stark. Everywhere she goes, Daenerys will always be there.
She's there in Arya's room. In the halls. In the courtyard. In the Godswood. And when Arya's asleep, the older girl will be in her dreams again.
It was almost impossible to escape from her presence even though Daenerys was physically nowhere close to her.
And then there was Bran's warning echoing at the back of her mind where he keeps telling her not to do anything. At first, Arya was sceptical about it all. She would brush it off as merely a weird dream she had in her comatose state. But, as days pass by, she can't help the tugging at the back of her mind that manages to creep their way inside her heart. And that was it all it takes for Arya to start doubting and to start being afraid.
She's afraid to do anything that would cause harm to Daenerys in any way. She'll be damned, but she would never let the older girl died again because of her.
Even when the news of her father had been imprisoned by Joffrey finally reach Winterfell, it takes every part of her to do nothing and the pain she carries in her chest is inexplicable.
It was later that night that she found herself lying awake on her bed. Her guilt and treacherous thoughts occupying her head when a creak of her door sounded. She instantly sits up to see who had come into her room in the dead of night.
Robb looks at her surprised to find her still awake. "Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked curiously as he strides closer.
"I can't sleep." She answered as he sits by her bed.
There was a pause as they stared at each other in silence. Arya takes the chance to examine her brother then. She noticed that he has donned his full armour and robe. "You're going away." It wasn't a question.
"Yes, I am." He answered anyway. "I'm heading South to King's Landing to free Father."
There was that familiar pain inside her chest again as her throat constricts.
"While I'm away, Arya, you're the Lady of Winterfell. Listen to Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrick. You must never leave the castle walls…and take care of our little brother."
The pain inside her chest only seems to intensify then. She reached for his hand. "I don't want you to go, Robb," she whispered, barely holding it together. Perhaps there's another way for everyone to be safe. But, she was having a hard time to come up with a solution at this moment.
His blue orbs soften. "It'll only be for a while… I'll come back home with father and mother and with Sansa and Bran. In the meantime, keep Winterfell organize, will you?" he tightens his hold on her as he gifted a small smile.
She stared at his clear blue eyes knowing that this will probably be the last time she'll ever see them again. "I will–" Her voice breaks before she gets a hold of herself again. "I will protect our home and Rickon with my life." She finished with conviction.
He nods in approval and before he gets up to leave, Arya wraps her arms around his neck in a hug. Robb tightens his hold around her too as she silently asks for her brother's forgiveness.
He gets up and was about ready to leave when he stops and turns back around. "If I don't come home, even after a long time, don't be afraid… You'll be alright. I know you will." He assured, gifting another smile.
Arya forced a smile too as she captured his brother's beautiful image, looking at her with that care and peace in his eyes forever inside her memory. "Robb," she called. He hummed in response, waiting. "I'm sorry." She said but he was waiting for more. "For punching you in the face the other day." She settled even though she was sorry for much more than that.
"I have to admit you do have a strong punch… You do not hear this from me but my jaw makes this weird pop sound whenever I open my mouth too wide. I think you might have something to do with that." He japed.
A chuckle escaped as her eyes shifted to the side, trying to hide the glassy layers in them. There was a beat of silence and for a moment, Arya thought that Robb has left but then he spoke again, softly. "I forgive you, Arya."
Her head turns back at him where he gifted an easy smile. Without waiting, he bids her goodbye and walks out of her room leaving her all alone. She bit her lip tightly in an attempt to hide the pain. They would have bled if she had bitten them a moment longer but a sudden movement outside her door caught her attention instead.
"Rickon?" she called in a daze.
Rickon steps out from the shadow then, revealing himself. His face is downcast and he looks almost dispirited. It shouldn't be there in a six-year-old boy. "They all have gone away." He said, almost whining.
"Yes, they have."
There was a beat of silence after that as Rickon ponders over her words. "They're never coming back, are they?" he suddenly asked.
Arya stiffens at that as she continues to mourn in silence. "No, they won't." she heard herself said.
His bright blue eyes turn clouded at that and for a moment, she hated herself for speaking the truth. "But, I'll look after you, Rickon... No matter what happens, I promise that I'll always be with you. I won't leave you."
At her declaration, his eyes cleared then and she finds them glowing instead. Without another word, he strides further to her room and lies down beside her. She tucks her little brother under the furs then as he wrapped his arms around her middle and settling his head on her chest.
With her little brother falling asleep in her arms, Arya keeps telling herself that this was the right thing to do. That this was supposed to happen. But then, why is it that her heart and mind are ripping apart in half? Why is it that every breath she takes, it hurts?