In which Arya struggles to find herself once more.
*Year 304 After Conquest (AC) – Present Day*
Sweats begin to roll down her skin and heart throbbing inside her chest. Arya is vaguely aware of the stinging in her legs but she forces herself to keep going as far as she can. Only when she feels like her lungs would burst did she stops, on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
She remained on the ground as nausea that once there decides to announce its presence. She heaves but nothing comes out. The pain moves on to her skull. Pounding and hammering as if someone is poking her brain with a stick.
Arya chuckles mirthlessly. Because that was what Bran did, didn't he? Messing with her head to warn her about some man.
Memories and much more crawl their way inside her head. Of her past two lives and the people that she grew to know and care for, ingrained inside, marking themselves into permanence—as if she didn't already live through it enough.
Clutching her head did nothing to ease the pain and so does hitting it. So, she lets go. Her eyes shut as she lay herself down. At least the soil is cool as it pressed against her cheek. She didn't know for how long she stays there, unmoved save for her heaving chest.
But, something stirs her then and when she opens her eyes, a foreign face greets her.
"Why are you here?" The young man asked. His short hair a jet black and his eyes a familiar emerald as he honestly looks troubled by her existence at the side of the road.
Arya realized late that the pain had subsided now. She closes her eyes again. "Leave me be," she mumbled under her breath.
A rustle of movement was heard and she thought that whoever it was had left but instead, her body was moving.
"What are you doing?" Arya brushes off the young man's hold around her, alarmed. She stumbles but regains herself in a matter of second, ready to attack. "Leave." She warned.
He steps back, palms out in surrender. "I meant no harm, but I can't leave you here."
"I can take care of myself." She tries to appear threatening but she doubts it works. Her feet unsteady as she scrunches her face at how disoriented she still feels.
"Alright." He said anyway. "I've kept your things at home. Would you like to get them?" At her frowns, he explained. "I'm the one who found you at the Red Keep."
Arya puts the pieces together. "You're Tyler?"
Tyler gives a small smile. "I guess you've met Emilya and Devron."
She studies the young man in front. He looks about the same age as she is, with tall and lean built. If he did mean harm, then she would not be here at this very moment. She should probably at least thank him for saving her life.
Though, as Arya thought deeper. Perhaps she should resent him for it instead. If he didn't found her, she wouldn't need to face those horrible experiences of voyaging with time and space—and then later meeting with a certain silver-haired woman.
Arya wouldn't have to give half of her heart away to Daenerys.
"Your nose is bleeding." His voice interrupts her chaotic mind. He looks at her with concern.
The young Stark wipes it off with her sleeve, staining it with red. "I'll go with you," she said weakly.
Tyler didn't need anything else as he walks closer and takes her arm. Arya lets him. She really needs the support if she doesn't want to embarrass herself plummeting face-first to the ground.
He guides her to a small wagon and orders her to sit at the back while he rides in front to guide his horse. Silently, Arya settled inside the empty carriage and lay down. The clouds above become her lullaby to another restless slumber.
*
Before she knows it, she was wide awake with a familiar voice of a little girl calling for her brother. The clouds above have stopped moving and so does the wagon. Gingerly, Arya climbs down and automatically hiss at the sudden and sharp pain beneath her feet. She guesses she didn't have anyone to blame but herself for that self-inflicted wound.
But, the discomfort was small compare to the feeling of her legs again. As she looks down to her standing feet, she still can't believe that she can use them as normal. Six years she lived a life of a cripple. The feebleness and helplessness had become a part of her that she constantly needs to fill to prove herself worthy. Those feelings still linger in her subconscious as if it was only yesterday that she had fallen down the broken tower.
"You came back!"
Arya was jolted out of her stupor when Emilya wrapped herself against her legs. Bright emerald orbs shine with open joy as she looks up to find grey ones. The young Stark doesn't know what to do. She can't move as the girl had secured a good grip around her legs, so she only stares silently, dumbfounded.
"Emilya, come now. Let her come inside." Tyler calls from upfront.
Emilya let go only to take Arya's hand instead. "Come on." She pulls and Arya allows the girl to guide her towards a destination.
As they walk in silence, the young Stark takes the chance to finally study her surroundings. She realizes she's in a small village. There are a few establishments across the small road and some houses in line near them. And when she's near a hut made of daub-and-wattle, Tyler was at its front door, waiting patiently for Emilya to come inside.
The hut is a big building with longer space at the back. Though it was small compare to what Arya had normally seen, it still has more than enough rooms for the family and then some more.
"Welcome to Tascer's Inn," Tyler said as they enter, confirming Arya's suspicion. There are benches and tables arranged neatly filling up the entrance hall. Further inside is a corridor where she guesses would lead up to the other rooms.
"We can start to call it as such when we receive enough customers," Devron speaks up from behind the counter at the corner. He looks at her once and then goes back to scribbling down something of importance.
"Let me introduce my family. That's Devron, my little brother." Tyler said with a smile. "And you know Emilya, my little sister."
The silence stretches as the siblings wait for her to say something but Arya doesn't have anything to add. She decides she likes the stillness better than her raging mind. Perhaps, if she lets it moulds long enough, the quiet will take over all the things that swam at the front of her mind.
The young man fakes a cough awkwardly. "Well, I'll go get your things. Why don't you take a seat?"
Emilya guides her to a nearby bench and sits with her too. Their hands still intertwined but Arya doesn't really mind and takes the pleasure in its warmth. She lets her mind wander to nothing. Pushing everything away seems to do the trick. She opts to just let everything go and not think. Even her head feels lighter by the notion.
"Here it is." Tyler came back and puts a bundle of things across the table near her. The last clothes that she wore, a pair of boots, a small knife and a long skinny blade. Her heart stops at the sight of Needle.
"You're free to go if you want." He continues, unaware of her sudden emotion. "But, let me bandage your feet first. Those look painful."
The young Stark shifts her gaze down only noticing the bloody footprint that she had left behind starting from the entrance. Emilya fusses over her and Tyler takes that as his cue to start the treatment.
She lets him tend to her feet. He cleans them with a wet rag before bandaging the wound close. Even Devron comes close to inspect her condition. Or perhaps he's just annoyed that she had left a mess behind her wake as he takes the wet rag and cleans the bloodied floor.
"Why don't you have something to eat first before you go?" Tyler suggested as he stands up. "I reckon you must be starving."
"You sleep for a long time." Emilya joins from the side. "I always wake up hungry in the morning. Sometimes at night too." she provides thoughtfully.
Without waiting, Tyler left no doubt getting the food that he just offered. When he came back moments later, it was with a bowl in his hand. "This is our speciality. Devron's own recipe." He puts it into her hands.
The food inside is a strange-looking bread. Long and thin, of several pieces. She takes one.
"Do you have a name?" Tyler asked.
Her gaze meets his. "Arya."
"So, Arya, where are you planning to go?"
The heaviness in her limbs come rushing again. Her chest particularly holds the weight of something far greater than she could ever hold. She should have died once her lists of names had been scrapped. Her mission was done then and she had nothing to live for anymore. But instead, she was sent back in time.
'Dream Bran'—who was not really a dream after all—had been the one responsible for her time travel. She should have realized sooner that he was the cause of her inflictions. But then again, how could she have known?
How could she know that Bran is some kind of a higher being now? She remembered he called himself the three-eyed-raven. Whatever that might be, he seems to have the power of a God himself. For him to turn back time and control everything and everyone.
'I cannot control, Daenerys. I cannot control Euron… And I cannot control you.'
His voice still rings inside her ears and Arya closes her eyes tight to force the voice away. It didn't work. Not in the slightest.
"Do you have somewhere to go to?" Tyler sounded again.
Yes, she has. Arya is well aware of where she should go. After all, Bran had made sure to tell her in the grandest way possible.
'You have to go to Daenerys before he does. You have to warn her.'
But, Arya didn't want to. Why should she be the one that has to go to the older woman? Why should she care for the person that never knows she existed? Why should she care for everyone else in this damned world?
"Well, do you have a family? Or acquaintance?" The young man probed further.
Bran had assured that Jon, Sansa and Rickon are still alive though Arya couldn't be sure of that. For all she knows, Bran could have lied so that she would do what he wanted her to do.
The possibility that Sansa and Rickon could be dead this time is definitely not lost on her since there is no news of them that Arya can get her hands on. And she recalls clearly the time when she had visited Jon's grave at Castle Black before she moves on to finish off her lists.
He can't possibly crawl his way out the grave now, can he?
Or perhaps he was never in it in the first place. After all, Jon did come back to life after he was stabbed in her previous life. Could he do it again in this life too?
But then again, she can't say the same about father, mother and Robb. His beheading and the Red Wedding had definitely happened. She couldn't get to father quickly enough then. And she couldn't get to mother and Robb to warn them.
Arya couldn't do anything to save them from their unjust death. She doesn't know if she can live with herself over that guilt.
Someone put a hand on her forearm then. She turns her head to find Emilya close. "Don't be sad if you don't have anyone. I once lost my parent but Tyler and Devron promised that they've moved on to live the next great adventure somewhere else. Everyone will join them sooner or later including me. So, don't worry."
Arya looks away and finally takes a bite of her bread. She tries her hardest to chew and swallow the surprisingly sweet and soft insides, but her throat clogged up. Her grip was shaky as she forces another bite. She keeps eating. Hoping for the sweetness of the bread to take over the bitter in her heart. But, she knows that it can't. She knows she will forever be tormented by a past that could not be undone.
Her vision blurred by the burning behind her eyes. And when the tears fall silently, they were loud to everyone else in the room.
*
The Tascer siblings let her stay. Though not for free.
Devron especially made her do every chore that was available to earn her keep. Scrubbing the tables, cleaning the floor, and even help him cook. Those things should be tiring to do in a busy inn. Luckily for her, it was not such a case.
Ever since she had regained her consciousness, not one customer had stepped inside the establishment. Tyler had reasoned that it was because not many knew the existence of the small village outside Rosby since most merchants and everyone else used the main road that leads to the town itself. She accepts his reason as much as he accepts that she's an orphan. None of the siblings ever speak or ask of her past again after her sudden outburst and Arya was grateful.
She wanted to forget everything that happened in her previous lives. She wanted to forget the horror and the happiness she encountered. She needed to lift those weights off her entire being.
"Have you ever done this before?" Emilya's voice shakes her from her silent musings.
Arya looks down to her fingers that are tangled with brown locks. She had offered Emilya to tidy up her braid and now she's regretting it. Tyler had gone to town to trade for food and Devron had gone inside the kitchen to stir something up again, leaving Arya and Emilya at the entrance hall.
"Does your hair ever get braided before?" The girl sounded again. This time, impatience and sceptical.
"Of course…" Arya trails but stopped short. Her mother was always the one that did them and in another life, Missandei. She moves her fingers again. "I'll get it done better than your brothers did." She assured.
Emilya hums, satisfied and begin playing with her toy. The young Stark lets the sound of the girl's mumbling accompany the twist and turns she did to her hair. When she was satisfied that they have formed into something worthy, she tied the last knot. "Done."
The girl practically jumps from her seat. Her now neat and arranged braid bounces off her shoulder as she did so. She smiles wide as she feels the length of her hair. "Do I look pretty now?" She asked innocently.
Arya mirrors the smile. "Now, you look even more beautiful."
The emerald eyes shine brightly at that. "Can I do yours?" She suddenly asked. Arya paused, uncertain. "Please?" The girl tacks on.
The young Stark could not answer when suddenly someone opens the door and enters. There are three men as they naturally find a table and settle there.
Immediately, Arya gets up. "I'm afraid my braiding would have to wait. Why don't you go tell your brother that we have customers."
The girl nods and straightaway runs to the kitchen. Arya grabs a filled jar and three cups before moving towards the potential clients.
"Do you have anything to eat?" One of the men asked as he takes his cup.
She continues pouring until everyone receives their ale. "We have soup." The only thing that they could afford to make since their stock of food had finished long ago. The last decent cookery being the bread that Arya had eaten. Which is why Tyler constantly needs to travel to town, hoping for whatever food he managed to trade will be a bit better to do business with.
"Soup?" He sounds offended. "How about some meat?" another inquired. When Arya shakes her head, the third man asked, "Some chicken?"
"No chicken…but we do have chicken's feet." The men look at her with horror. "Would you like to tr—"
"She's just jesting." Devron suddenly appears out of nowhere, laughing awkwardly as the faces in front of them begin to clear and relax. "How about some fresh soup derived from boiling of meat with bone and vegetable mix? I promised you could smell every flavour in its aroma and even more when you taste it."
Arya had to give credit to the young boy. He definitely knows how to appeal if he wanted to. As the men finally ordered the infamous soup, Devron runs back to the kitchen to deliver what was promised.
*
The men seem happy with the outcome. So happy in fact that they ordered another serving. Devron had gone back to the kitchen once he had delivered his soups. And Arya decides to wait at the corner of the room, close enough so that she can tend to them if they need it. Her remaining attention goes to Emilya who had been playing with her toy at another end of the hall, clearly lost in her own world.
"We should go to Duskendale next. Perhaps there, someone might have an interest in buying those fabrics." The man's voice carries through the room.
"Mark my word, it'll be a waste of time." Another grumble. "No one is rich enough to waste their coin on them. Not even Lord Rykker himself."
"Then we should have lowered the price when Lady Rosby wanted them."
"Are you mad? Those fabrics are produced by flax plants. The quality of that production wasn't of just 300 Silver Stag. They should at least worth 500 Gold Dragon." He finishes his ale, frustrated. A loud thud echoes as his empty cup hit the table. "That fucking bitch queen. If she didn't turn us away, we'd be in a brothel by now."
Arya's ears perked up. She wonders which queen he was implying. If they were from Rosby and are heading to Duskendale next, then they were coming from the south. From Kings Landing.
"It wasn't just us… She turned all of the merchants away." Another joins.
"Not really. It was her twin brother that did that."
"Well, of course, he did. Do you expect the bitch queen herself to walk all the way from her pretty castle to inform us, mere peasants?"
The young Stark stilled as memories of Cersei Lannister's opened throat flashes through. She was sure that had happened by her hands. And then later The Mountain and the other Queenguard. Judging by the man's conversation, however, they still think that Cersei is alive and ruling in the Red Keep. Arya doesn't know what to think of that.
"…Dragonstone then?" She tilts her head towards them.
"Well, if she's already here, then she must want to take Kings Landing. Maybe a siege will be happening soon."
"I hear her dragons are bigger than Aegon's"
"Horseshit. Did you see them yourself?" The man shakes his head. "Then, stop saying that. I'll believe it when I see them with my own fucking eyes."
She had held her breath in surprise. They can't mean—
"The dragon queen should have 500 Gold Dragon. Perhaps we can even sell them for more."
"She's the Mad King's daughter. What if she's even half as insane as his father? I don't want to lose my life over a damn fabric."
Silence ensues as the others really ponder over the possibility. "If we can't sell them anywhere else, then, we're damned all the same."
"Girl, bring us more ale." Someone called her then.
But, Arya's mind had been lost the moment that they mentioned a certain Targaryen queen, further confirming her suspicion. Her fists tighten so hard that it hurts. Her mind is frantic at the mere thought of the woman that she had cared about—that she loves, and what is coming for her.
"Oi, girl. Are you deaf?" The man shouts from his seat.
Grey orbs focused then. She reaches for the jar and walks towards them with purpose, all the while trying to silence the chaos that is her mind. He offers his empty cup to be filled but Arya only looks back, gaze hardens. "You're lying, aren't you?"
The others share a silent look of befuddlement.
"You didn't see her dragons. So, how would you know that she's in Dragonstone?" The smouldering inside her confused her but Arya can't seem to stop it. "Admit it. You're a fucking liar." She snarled.
His face is red with anger. "I don't know what your problem is…just give me my damn ale."
He tries to reach for it but Arya was faster. "Tell me you lied." She growls and finds the other as well. "Say it!"
Daenerys can't be here. She can't.
One of them stands up then. "You crazy bitch, give me that." He was about to use his strength to get the jar and Arya snaps.
The jar made a loud crunching noise as she thrusts it onto his face. He falls down the floor with a loud crash. Blood and ale adorn his features. When the other two sprang into action, so did the young Stark. Hot rage surges from within asking to be released.
She kicks the table with everything that she got. The man behinds it groans painfully as the edge struck his body. The other one was quicker as he was out of the bench and had his arms around to hold her down. But, Arya turns away at the last moment. Her fingers managed to grab the empty cup stranded on the floor. When he comes again at her, she sidestepped and climbs an empty bench for leverage before her weights come down. As soon as the wooden cup comes upon contact with the back of his head, he falls.
She was about to finish him off but someone stops her. There are arms around her waist as a familiar voice shouts desperately in her ears. Arya ignores it. Her pain and anger drive her to her next action. She breaks the hold and turns to grasp the person's shirt.
Scared grey orbs enter her vision soon after. And Arya stops.
The cup that she holds just barely touching the boy's face. Gradually, the red behind her mind clears and the heaves of her chest slow down as she finally recognized who she was about to hit. She flinched and immediately releases her hold on him.
But, the damage has already been done. For once, the young boy looks his age.
Devron steps back timidly with Emilya hiding behind his leg. "What is wrong with you?" He asked, frightened.
The cup falls out of her grasp and then onto the floor to where the men were lying in a pile of mess, groaning loudly of their injuries.
Without another word, she turns and bolted.
*
She runs until the village is no more. And then steers off the small road and into the woods next. She ducks and jumps through the uneven land and the protruding roots. Not only until her legs grew tired did she finally stop. Chest heaving and lungs burning.
Arya falls to her knees, hands on the cool ground as she recalls what she had done. The rage that ignited beneath her skin had controlled her into doing something that she cannot undo. She even almost ends up hurting Devron. And what if she hadn't stopped then? Would Emilya be next?
Her hands collect dirt as she tightens into fists. She knows damn well of the cause of these wraths from within her and who should be the deserving one to receive them. But, that person is conveniently not present.
Just then, a loud caw sounded. Arya looks up to find a black bird perched on a branch.
In an instant, the anger returns. She didn't know if it was the same raven that always welcomes her to the living after her near-death experiences or the one that has always been in her nightmares. Either way, she knows now what the raven means. Bran had said he's the three-eyed raven, so it is not near impossible if he can control ravens too. After all, he turns back time like it was his past-time hobby.
Silence accompanies them as the bird does nothing but stare straight into her eyes. She stands up then. Now that he can't get into her head, he wants to taunt her with his bird instead.
He can go to hell.
She grabs a small rock and throws it to the unmoved target up above. The rock flies in incredible speed at the force propelling it. Arya expects that the raven would fly off and leave her alone but instead, the rock hits it squarely on the head. The bird gives a last squeak and then it falls hitting the ground with a small thud. A few feathers flying off behind its wake.
The young Stark is frozen in place as she looks at the now-dead bird. She didn't mean to kill it. She just wants it to go away and leave her be. She wants Bran not to taunt her with the impending doom that's coming. She wants nothing to do with Daenerys, the person that she had come to love. She just wants everyone to leave her alone. And instead, she had taken another life with her hands.
Her vision blurs by the glassy layers underneath it. She moves closer to the dead bird and on her knees beside it. A big enough rock is in her grasp and she starts digging a small grave for the bird to rest.
Once the hole is ready, gently, she scoops the raven to put it into its grave. But, before she can do that, something caught her attention—a length of white attached to its foot. She untied it and comes upon a scroll.
She didn't need to guess who it was from and reads the content anyway.
'By the time you received this letter, Arya, Jon's army had taken back Winterfell and Sansa and Rickon will be home. It will take time to recover from the battle but The North will be prepared for what's to come. But, all of those measures will turn into dust if Euron got what he intended to take. You know what he wants. You know what will come when he gets to Winterfell. By now, Daenerys would have arrived at Dragonstone. You have to go there and warn her. Together with her forces, we can stop Euron. You may resent me all you want, but you know what needs to be done. You know what the right thing to do is.'
The indignation inside her starts smouldering again. She tosses the paper away and gets back to what she intended to do. When the raven is safely inside, she fills it with soil until it is buried fully. Satisfied, she stands up and walks away and doesn't look back.
*
There are people giving her small glances every now and then as she walks back along the road. Though they have the decency not to stare long, Arya still feels their gaze all the same. Perhaps, the news of her went berserk over some merchants have been made known. After all, this is a small village.
She ignores them and proceeds to the inn at the end instead. Devron and Tyler are outside their premises talking something of importance. When she nears them, they stop and turn.
The young boy suddenly marches over in long strides. His eyes glaze with fury. "No one will come here ever again! Are you happy now?" As soon as he's done, he turns and walks inside. His body still vibrates with anger all the while.
Arya decides she likes it better than him being frightened of her.
Tyler closes in then. "What really happened?"
The young Stark said nothing. Ashamed. What happened was she lost control and there's no way she can take back her mistakes. The same thing as she can't take back what had happened to father, mother and Robb.
A soft sigh escapes the young man. "Did they provoke you? Or were you acting to protect yourself?" He tried again.
Grey orbs find emerald then. "No."
He frowns. "No? Then, why do you leave them with a broken nose, bruises and a bleeding head?"
The guilt further creeps in. "Where are they?" She should apologize and perhaps even received a beating or two from them in return.
"They're gone—as they should be—running for their lives." Tyler admonished. Arya looks away, unable to hold his gaze. But, then he walks closer. Their face an inch apart, forcing her to look at him again. "I don't care about them. What I need is for you to guarantee that whatever that is will never happen again, especially to my family. I saved your life, so you could at least promise me that you will not hurt Devron and Emilya." His eyes are set and hard as he waits for her reply.
"Perhaps you shouldn't have saved me in the first place." She said back. Her mask in place. "I'm a killer. I've taken counted lives. You may not see it, but my hands are covered in the blood of others." Tyler backs away but Arya doesn't let him far. "If you've let me die in the Godswood then you would've saved yourself this predicament."
To his credit, the young man holds his ground. His eyes busy as he searches her face. "Who did you killed in the Red Keep?" Her gaze falters at the unexpected question but Tyler definitely did not. "You managed to get to the Godswood instead of running away. It was as if you didn't care if you were caught. Or maybe you wanted to get caught... Who was supposed to be your last kill?" He asked again.
She looks at an invisible point, lost in memories of how she climbs to the lion's room to slit her throat and then almost decapitating the half-giant after. "Cersei Lannister and The Mountain."
His emerald orbs grow wide in recognition as the name sinks in. "Did you succeed?"
"Yes."
Silence engulfs them in a heavy tension. It is not at all comfortable but Arya waits patiently. Whatever he decides, she will follow them. It's the least that she could do.
"Why?" He finally voiced out.
"Does it matter? I killed people. That's all you needed to know."
Tyler doesn't waver. "Yes, it does matter... The Lannister Queen blew up the Sept of Baelor with wildfire, killing thousands or more innocent bystanders and The Mountain acts in the queen's stead. So, I asked you again, for what reason did you kill them?"
Seeing that he will not back down until he gets an answer, Arya speaks the truth. "Cersei arrested my father and later aided in his beheading and The Mountain tortured farmers, wives, and children at Harrenhal."
As soon as he heard that, his eyes soften and she doesn't know what to make of it. "My offer still stand, you may stay if you want to." He declared after a while.
Arya can't believe what he just said. She expects to be told to pack her things and leave at once but instead none of that happened. Before she can voice out anything, Tyler already turns away and walks to his wagon, apparently done talking.
He starts to take out the things that he managed to trade in town from the carriage. "Explain yourself to Emilya. She's upset," he calls out.
"I don't think that's wise. After what I did—"
"It's not for your sake." He cuts off.
Tyler gives another look, making Arya sigh in defeat. She walks past him and into the inn to find the little girl.
*
She finds the youngest of the Tascer's siblings in one of the many rooms of the establishment. Toy in hand as she sat on the floor.
Arya knocks the opened door then, snapping the girl from her daydreaming. "Can I come in?"
Emilya nods softly, eyes calculating. Slowly, Arya walks in and plops herself down in front of the girl as to not startle her anymore. Her mind is busy searching for words to start the conversation.
But, the little girl beats her to it as she asks, "Are you still angry?"
The young Stark offers a sad smile. "No, I'm not." Emilya looks relieved and Arya continues. "You must be terrified by what happened. I'm sorry you had to see that."
"Just a little, but that's fine. Tyler and Devron always get mad at each other too… They would yell and shouts and sometimes throw things."
"Is that so? Did they yell at you too?"
Emilya shakes her head. "No." She fiddles with her toy then. "But, I don't understand why they did that. Getting angry and shouting cannot solve any problems. It only hurt my ears because they're being so loud."
Arya's lips upturn. "You're a smart girl."
Emerald orbs meet grey ones, still thoughtful. "I always say that to them, so they only fight when I'm not around." She said, clearly offended.
"I'm sure your brothers still love each other despite their quarrels. Family do that." Arya tries. Her focus strays away to a certain silver-haired woman and at the information that made her lose control. "And sometimes, when you love the person so much, your emotions got the best of you. All of your rational and righteous thoughts leave you. You can't think or do anything other than let those emotions out, even if it's the bad ones."
"But, it'll be tiring." Arya's head clears to find Emilya's harden gaze. "Wouldn't it be better if you spend your time doing something fun? If Tyler and Devron didn't fight as much, we would be playing more games now."
The girl's words hit something within her. Her heart tugged at the thought of her reluctance to admit the things that she had been struggling to confess.
Her love for Daenerys has never lessened ever since she wakes up from her time travel and even more so when Bran told her all those things. She was angry of how unfair things were. She was furious of Bran's influence and only decides to forget everything just to spite him.
But, this was never about her, was it?
The life of Jon, Sansa and Rickon are in jeopardy. Even Emilya's and Tyler's and Devron's and all other person in Westeros. And most importantly, Daenerys will be the first to receive the misfortune.
*
Later that night, the young Stark found herself in her room. Outside, the night was at the most dark. But, she sat on her bed, wide awake and mind loud accompanied by the memories and images of her past lives. Of the pain and horror in them but also of the pleasantness and joy they provided.
She knows what she needed to do. Even if that means doing exactly what the three-eyed-raven wants. Despite that, it is the right course of action. She will follow as he says only because she choose to do so and not the other way around.
Finally deciding, the young Stark stands up and starts to gather her things. She strapped Needle last and welcomes the familiar weight. As she walks out and into the dark hallways, she stops by the kitchen and sees the things that Tyler had managed to get earlier. Milk, flour, vegetables and eggs. But, no meat.
She wonders how long it has been since they tasted any kind of meat. A sudden thought crosses her then and she sets off to do one last thing.
*
The sun has showed itself for hours now as Arya tread her path back to the inn. She had borrowed Tyler's horse to go hunt deep in the woods. And after much success, she's now heading back to deliver them the reward of her full of hardship night-hunt.
The horse slows down to a trot when they enter the village. As they near the inn, she notices the silhouette of Emilya playing by herself outside. When the girl spotted the incoming visitors, she stops and runs inside. Tyler and Devron come out soon after.
Arya gets down and guides the horse towards them then. Emilya greets her first with a hug to her legs as usual. "Arya!"
"I thought you left and stole my horse." Tyler joked as he nears them.
"I'm sorry. I only borrowed them."
"It's fine. Where did you go?"
Arya moves away then to the back of the horse and cuts the rope that holds the dead animal. A loud thud sounded as it crashes to the ground. She looks up to the silent form of Devron then. "I got you a wild hog."
The boy didn't say anything but looks repeatedly at her and the dead boar. Eyes wide in shock. The others also sported the same expression.
"Where did you get this?" Tyler breaks the silence.
"I hunt it in the woods." She had to go deep enough to find one since they didn't roam so close to human population. She finds grey orbs again. "You can cook something other than soup now." She tries again.
Devron's face softens but he didn't say anything else as he turns and get back inside.
"Don't worry, he'll come around," Tyler said after the boy left. He moves to tie the horse and then get the boar.
Before he can go further, Arya finally said. "I'm not staying."
"What?" Emilya interrupts. "No, you can stay. Devron's not mad anymore." Emerald eyes begging.
The young Stark goes down on her knee to look her in the eye. "I have to go, Emilya. There is someplace that I need to be. I'll come visit you when I can."
The girl said nothing for a while and pouts. "Do you promise?"
"I promise."
Emilya's arms go around as she wraps Arya in them and the young Stark hugs back, equally as tight. When the girl finally let go, she stands up and finds Tyler waiting.
"Thank you for saving my life."
He smiles. "You're welcome. I would offer you a horse but I only have one."
"I don't need a horse. I think I'll run." She had come to enjoy the feeling of using her legs. Even more so at how fast she can go.
Tyler chuckles. "Well, good luck then. Where are you heading to?"
Certain violet eyes invade her memory. "To the other half of my heart."
*
For two days Arya travelled. She stops only when she needed to, which is barely at all. Even at night when her mind can't rest, she pushes her body forward. All she knows is she needs to get to Dragonstone fast. Every single time that she had wasted is another step closer Euron will be. With that thought, her pace quickens.
When she finally heard the sound of waves splashing onto rocks, it was half a day after. The sun is bright and the wind is cool to her skin. Though the sound was subtle she knows she was closed to the island. After a few more hours, she finally saw the castle. The mountains and hills surround the large castle creating a majestic sight.
But, as Arya gets closer she realized that it was not really a castle but more like a fortress. It has a rough, austere appearance not like any castle in Westeros. The built was foreign and strange—befitting the Targaryen who had made them.
And just like that, her thought wanders to Daenerys again. Truthfully, now that Arya is standing close to the castle doors, she suddenly feels overwhelms. Scared and anxious about what she will find behind these closed doors. Million of thoughts crosses her mind.
She wonders what she should do when she meets the older woman? What should she say to make her believe the things that will happen? And most importantly, can she look into those violet eyes without breaking down?
Arya realizes late that she's not ready for this. She needs to hold herself together and plan properly how she should approach the dragon queen. She doesn't want to be labelled as a madman at their first encounter.
Just then, a familiar shriek sounded from afar. She snaps up to the sky and found Drogon passing by. Viserion trails close behind him as with Rhaegal, a bit far behind. They fly off to a destination and Arya follows them.
*
The dragons end up on a large field beside the castle. The large clearing from up the hill made their big frame easier to roam and even playing around—which is the case with Drogon and Viserion. They traded bites and growls as their wings flap creating dust of wind combining with dirt. Amidst all of that, Rhaegal only looks at them occasionally and mostly minding to his own business.
Arya walks closer without stopping. She doesn't know why she's here or why she's still advancing towards them. Perhaps she needs proof that everything from her time travel had happened. She needs something tangible to ease her mind even if it is for the slightest.
Rhaegal turns to her way suddenly, finally noticing her presence. And she stops. For a moment his bronze eyes study her from afar. Perhaps, wondering if she's danger or food. At his unresponsive state, Arya walks again.
The green dragon perks up at the advance, making both Drogon and Viserion stop their playing to acknowledge her presence as well. Now that she has all of their attention, she decides to use the knowledge that Jon gave another lifetime ago and waits.
It doesn't take long for Rhaegal to be the first one that made a move. Slowly, he crawls his way with his massive wings towards her. Not until she can clearly see the horizontal of his eyes did he finally stops. He could have easily bites her into two at the closeness but he didn't.
Something within her blossomed. And gingerly, Arya reaches out her hand. Her fingers only an inch apart from his snout. She didn't advance any more and waits for him to come instead. It felt like hours as her hand grew tired of the awkward position but it was fruitful when Rhaegal tosses his head to touch her hand.
Her lips form a smile and she finally closes in the remaining distance. Her hands now on his smooth scale as she stroke him. When she moves to scratch underneath his jaw, he made a familiar sound. The sound of content that Arya once heard before in another life.
Viserion and Drogon come closer to inspect what had happened. When Viserion bumps into Rhaegal none too gently, Rhaegal bites back in retaliation, annoyed that he had interrupted his moment. Arya laughs. Because she's still alive and because she has the proof that she needs. If the dragon still acts the same then everything that she has gone through was also real.
She turns to find Drogon who is still watching her closely. He moves his head forward little by little. The act would be intimidating but Rhaegal bumps his head to block Drogon's advance and takes his place instead. Arya smiles at their banter and finally gives in to scratch at Rhaegal's favourite spot again. Viserion, after learning his lesson, quietly creeps in from the side to offer his head. She chuckles and does the same to him as well.
She doesn't know if Viserion will react the same way, but as he made a similar sound as his brother, Arya knows her answer. Drogon only stares at the other side. He looks bored as he watches his brothers gave in.
Being this near the dragons, she can't help but to remember the horrible things that happened in another life. How Euron had use these beautiful creatures for a mass destruction and taken their will to his own. She knows how painful it was to be forced against her will. "If only you knew what I know." She whispers.
And there is still the matter of Daenerys. Perhaps she should just convince the older woman to escape with her. She finds the dragons then. "You would let me do that, right?"
They didn't answer of course. But, at the side, Drogon suddenly straightens. His gaze somewhere far behind her. Arya should have known better but she was so busy attending to the other two dragons that it was too late when she finally realized someone else is there.
"Who are you?" the voice sounded close.
Arya froze as the familiar voice enters her ears, where the same voice had constantly accompanied her at night. She stands there unresponsive as her memories come rushing in. Even before she turns, she could already see Daenerys behind her eyes. And sure enough, as she faces the person in question, in an instant, her eyes find violet.
Pictures, places and visions keep flashing before her. Of how beautiful she thought those violet orbs were when she first saw them. And then later of how innocently Daenerys whispers her love, not expecting anything in return. But, the more prominent ones are the times that Arya could not save her. The last time she saw Daenerys was when a knife twisted in her heart and of her leaving Winterfell with a smile not knowing the danger that awaited.
The violet orbs glance to her dragons for a while before they find grey ones again. The young Stark doesn't know if Daenerys realized how intense and how much her gaze affected her as they penetrate her heart, that Arya feels like it was to burst at any time.
Her body moves into her own accord and she only notices late that the violet orbs grow closer and clearer as her arms move to wrap the girl's frame against her own next.
Daenerys body goes stiff as a board at the contact but Arya doesn't care. She tightens her hold, afraid that the older woman will go away. Her entire being feels like it had found something that she had lost as she fades into the familiar warmth, coiling them together until she doesn't know where one ends or the other begins.
For a moment, if the young Stark was not so lost in her own emotion, she would notice the older woman returning the gesture, however small.