In which two souls try to find one another
*Year 304 After Conquest (AC) – Present Day*
Darkness cloaks her entire being as Arya sat on the ground of her cell. She had picked a random dungeon on the fourth level to escape from everything and everyone. For a while, as she closes her eyes and let the dark envelops her further, she can pretend that nothing happened. She can indulge in lying to herself that the Crow's Eye will not come to proclaim himself God of Westeros. She uses the calm of the oblivion to be free.
But, pretending can only last for a time and time is what she does not have. Frustration takes over instantaneously. She opens her eyes to greet the darkness of the dungeon again. Slowly, her vision gets used to the dark space. Walls and untended shackles at the corner. Little squeaking sounded inside and she notices shadowy of rats as they chase about and then disappear inside a hole down the wall. The smell is not better but she had worse before.
Inevitably, her thoughts finally wander to Daenerys. Arya doesn't know what else to do to influence the older woman before it's too late. She thought she had done a pretty good job in convincing the dragon queen back in Dragonstone. Yet now, Daenerys doesn't seem to take the warning seriously after all.
Sure, Arya saw how cynical the small council were when she told them about Euron and his dragonhorn. The young Stark is not blind when they looked at her differently as soon as she mentioned magic and visions. But, she doesn't care about them. All she needed was Daenerys support. But now, after what happened, the older woman may never listen to her ever again.
A long sigh escapes. Tired and desolate.
For a long while, only the silence accompanies as her mind wandered back and forth to what had happened and what's to come. But then, she hears something stirs outside and later her cell door creaks slowly. Light pours from the small hole until a figure emerges behind it. Her sight was temporarily blinded by the abrupt brightness but she quickly adjusted to it and saw Tyrion's face.
He has a torch in his grip and as he meets her gaze, he only stands there silently. His postures stiff and he looks conflicted whether to advance or not. Arya tears her gaze away and closes her eyes instead, choosing to ignore his presence. Tyrion, on the other hand, decides that would be the time to finally step inside the prison.
"You look comfy." He starts in an attempt at levity which Arya offers nothing. "Perhaps you should know, despite everything, the Queen hasn't declared any punishment after you left. You don't have to be here at all. The door is not even locked."
His statements are met with another silence.
"And you probably know this too, but you saved my life. If you hadn't step in at the time, I may be the one locked in here instead… So, thank you."
Arya opens her eyes and tilts her head towards where Tyrion is. The Hand's brooch reflected by the flame's glare. "Do you think you deserve that?"
He glances down to his pin. Jaw clenched in understanding. "I did what I think is best for everyone."
"You advised Daenerys to take Casterly Rock—a castle across the country which conveniently none of your family was residing. Not only you divided her army and made them vulnerable, in doing so you intend to delay her in retaking Kings Landing because your family was here. Is it not?" Tyrion shifts his stand and offers nothing. "I guess blood is thicker than water."
Squeaking sounds of the rats are the only thing that surrounds the surrounding as they stare at each other. He didn't even try to defend himself.
Arya finally looks away, leaning her back to the wall making herself comfortable. "You're the smartest Lannisters alive, you said it yourself. If you—as Hand of The Queen—are conflicted against your Queen's best interest and your own, then perhaps the position is not for you to hold onto… I may have saved you earlier, but I don't intend to repeat it."
Tyrion walks closer to stand in her line of view. "I don't need to tell you the story of the Mad King or of his cruelty since your family received the brunt of his madness. But, believe it or not, he would've committed a far greater crime than burning your grandfather and uncle alive… The day your father invaded this city, the Mad King would've burned the city with wildfires just so that no one can have his throne. And my brother is the one that stops that. He became the Kingslayer to save the million people in Kings Landing as what you intend to do now. Jaime didn't deserve to be punished because of it."
"He also pushed a boy out of a tower and made him crippled for life."
"I'm not going to defend him on that, but, we all have done something that we aren't proud of."
The young Stark only glares at the mismatch orbs in front. But, Tyrion stands his ground.
"I didn't mean to cause any of this. Ever since Lord Varys smuggled me to Meereen, I had nothing to look forward to in my life. My family accused me of murder; my country sees me as a criminal. I had nothing else to live for." He smiles sadly. "But, Daenerys gave me back that purpose. For once in my life, I was validated. She acknowledged me without any malice and made me her Hand. She will always be my Queen as much as Jaime is my last living family. I can't choose one or the other."
"Someday, you might have to."
The silence was deafening as they exchanged a look. And his eyes tell another story far louder than anything else combines. But not soon after, he left without another word and the door clicked shut behind him. Once in the familiar darkness again, Arya was glad that she's not the one that had to make that choice.
*
It was hard to tell the time in the imminent dark but the young Stark was not ready to go out and face the world again. She's not prepared to saddle the burden of the future on her shoulders. The last and only visitor she had was Tyrion and if she had to guess, that might have been a day ago at most.
A sudden irritation flows through her veins. Of course, she didn't expect Daenerys to come down here herself but at least the older woman could have sent someone to check on her. Hell, the dragon queen doesn't seem to care enough to made promise on her words and punishes her to imprisonment.
Arya closes her eyes tight, her legs and arms crossed as she tries to get some sleep, vanishing the thoughts of a certain silver-haired woman. It was short-lived though when her cell door creaks loudly for the second time. She didn't bother to open her eyes to greet whoever is paying a visit.
Probably Tyrion again. Or one of the guards finally checking up on me. She remains unmoving.
The person finally walks inside and Arya can clearly hear his movement at every corner of the cell. She frowns at the strange action but acts nothing. Behind her closed eyelids, little by little, lights occupy making the darkness not so dark anymore. And then the person stops by her feet. There is nothing else but the crackling of fires resounding against the walls.
Annoyed, she opens her eyes. The room now bright with torches mounted on the walls making her squints to adjust the new scenery. But, her irritation disappears when she finds the last person that would be here sitting on the ground in front of her.
The violet orbs did nothing but stare, waiting. And neither does Arya. She had said what needed to be said a while back and had nothing else to offer anymore. Her arms tighten around and her eyes close again, as she tries to continue her rest and to put off the sudden fire inside her chest at Daenerys indifference.
"I've ordered Grey Worm to stop the search and he'll be back soon." Grey orbs finally meet violet ones again. "We can start planning the cities' defences tomorrow."
Arya was caught by surprise. "Did you capture Jaime Lannister?"
"No. I'll get him another day. The city's protection comes first."
The young Stark studies the weight behind those words and finds that Daenerys meant everything she just said. "What changed your mind?"
"You mean besides the constant reminder and yelling you last give me. Not to mention the disrespect that you showed in front of my small council?"
There was definitely a trace of something there. Be it anger or warning. But Arya can't seem to take them into hearts as relief washes over instead. "Thank you." She offers a small smile. "And I apologized. I know I was rude before."
Daenerys looks away. A small crease on her brows. "There's no need to thank me, Stark. The only reason I did it is that you have never been wrong before. Your suggestion has been nothing but an advantage for me, so that's why I agreed."
The shadows of the torches dance against the older woman's face and Arya finds herself lost again.
"It's unfair." Daenerys finds grey orbs again; already waiting. "You seem to know everything about me yet I didn't know anything of you besides your family name."
The young Stark can only imagine the amount of confusion Daenerys has ever since she came into her life. To have a stranger knows about yourself can be pretty daunting, to say the least. So, it's only fair that Arya decides to ease the older woman's concern. "If you want to know more about me or about anything else, you need only ask."
"And you'll speak the truth."
She doesn't falter. "Yes, I will."
For a moment, neither woman speaks a word. Arya waits patiently as Daenerys busy thinks of a question to ask.
"So, chasing cats?"
Her lips are upturned. "Excellent question." Daenerys doesn't seem to be amused by it, so Arya continues. "As I said before, it was part of my training—a dance lesson. My father provided me with a dance teacher, Syrio Forell, First Sword to the Sealord of Bravos. He taught me the water dance. The sword fighting method of smoothness and precision. Swift and sudden."
"He gave you that sword?" Daenerys pointed.
Arya takes out Needle from her side and places it on her lap. "No, my brother, Jon gave me this before I went to Kings Landing with my father. I've always wanted to be a knight when I was a girl. I wanted to ride into battle with my father and my brothers and fight alongside them." She used to like fighting as a sport but things have changed since then. She has changed. Her eyes grow unfocused as memories of deaths after deaths that had come upon her hands and her blades.
"Where's your dancing teacher now?"
Grey orbs focused again. "He's dead, trying to save me from Lannisters' soldiers."
Daenerys stilled. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Arya sheathes Needle again and out of sight. The crackling of fires suddenly sounded louder inside the room.
"It seems that there is nothing good Kings Landing has given you. You lost everything that you cared for in this city, yet, you're here trying to save these people all by yourself. Why didn't your family come along? Why are you here alone?"
"I didn't know my family were alive until recently. And I don't know if they knew I was alive. The last time we ever saw each other was six years ago." Bran didn't say that he was with them either. So, there's a possibility that they didn't know she was here. "After I killed Cersei I had nowhere else to go, but it changed when I had the visions."
"And you came running to warn me."
Arya agreed in silence.
"You know, Stark, everyone has something they fight for, something they want to protect. Even my council—they all wanted what they can get out of me. Be it revenge or my power or more. I'm not stupid as to not recognize that much. I'm beneficial to them as much as they are to me. But, you—what is it that you seek?" Daenerys pins Arya down with such scrutiny gaze. "You help me takes Kings Landing yet you speak nothing of The North's future alliance. You rejected the offer to be a part of my court yet now you're helping me strengthening the city walls. So tell me, once this is over, once we've defeated our common enemy, what is it that you want from me?"
The violet eyes in front are hard and strong. It was as if they are bracing for what's about to be said and Arya's heart tugged. She tries to smile instead in the hope that it comes out honest and true. "I don't want anything from you, Daenerys."
The older woman blinks, taken aback perhaps by the statement or by the mention of her name. She collects herself in a matter of seconds. "Everything that you're doing is because you wanted to save your family and the people in this city, nothing else?"
Daenerys seems to expect more, so Arya decides to give herself in. "There's also another reason. I'm doing this to protect someone in hope that after this end, this person will live freely and be happy, find a family and not be so alone anymore."
If they're not sitting so close in a small dungeon, perhaps Arya would not notice how the violet orbs in front falter and soften, regardless of how small.
"This person that you wish to protect, is it someone you love?" Daenerys asked.
"Yes. My first and my last."
The air around them seems to take a standstill as her last words echo through the room. Daenerys doesn't say anything after and opt to stare silently into unwavering grey orbs instead. At that moment Arya promised herself that she will do anything to protect this woman. This version of Daenerys might not have been the same person that Arya once knew, but, she can still see the lights of that familiarity inside.
At the way that Daenerys cared about not burning down the city and win an easy war and the way that she agreed to stop hunting down the Kingslayer to protect the people and now as Arya looks further into those violet depths, she can see them clearly the same way she once saw them another lifetime ago. The young Stark swears she will shed that shadows out and free them of the strain that Daenerys seems to be trapped in.
The burnt wood from the torch snaps inside the flame, successfully breaking both women's gaze from one another.
"The Daenerys that you saw in your vision… You said she was kind and strict, tender and fierce and cared about innocent lives and the unfairness of the world." The older woman pauses trying to form her next words. "Your version of that person seems like everything I wanted to become. I wish I could be some parts of her."
If only the older woman realizes what that truly means. But, Arya knows she's not entitled to press her love to Daenerys. "You don't have to be her at all," she said softly. "All you need is to be the best version of yourself."
Daenerys glances down in silence, her mind leagues away. Arya pushes herself to stand then. Her muscles scream at the sudden tension after such a long time unused. But, she makes clear of it as fast as it came and looks down to find Daenerys staring at her every move.
The young Stark offers a hand then. "I don't think I can stand the smell from this room anymore. Shall we leave?"
After looking back and forth between the extended hand and waiting eyes, Daenerys finally takes Arya's hand and stands up as well. "I thought you pick this cell because of the smell."
Arya attempts to counter but Daenerys has already left the room, deeming the effort unnecessary. With a budding smile, she follows the older woman's trail and closes the cell door behind her.
*
True to her words, the dragon queen holds a meeting first thing the next morning. Everyone was present in the council room except Tyrion. Arya can also see clearly the Hand's brooch that Tyrion once wore is now on Jorah's. She was curious about the new arrangement, to say the least, but she has bigger things to think about like planning a defensive war against the Crow's Eye than to question about the Lannister's absence. She just hopes that Tyrion is at least safe wherever he is.
"Our armies haven't diminished that much ever since we take Kings Landing." Jorah starts, seated nearest to Daenerys who is at the head of the table. "Once Grey Worm comes back in a matter of days, we'll have the Unsullied and the Dothraki to protect the city."
"What of Euron?" The silver-haired queen asked to Varys. "Is there any words on his whereabouts?"
"My little birds sing songs about his ship last seen in Braavos, Your Grace." The Spider spoke from beside Jorah. "I believe he's heading to Westeros, possibly Kings Landing. He'll arrive in Westeros within a month or a fortnight at the very least if the wind is kind."
A fortnight? That's sooner than Arya had ever dreamed of. If she was any later in her travelling to Dragonstone, she might not have made it in time to warn Daenerys. The thought sends shivers down her spine at what could have happened. Flashes of Euron's smiling eye cross her mind but she balls her hands into fists to make it go away.
"And his forces?" Daenerys continues.
"50 ships, more or less."
Yara who is seated across Varys joins then. "I can't believe he has that much. Theon and I took almost every last one of the Iron fleet from him when we fled."
"Even so, I believe he shouldn't be much of a problem." Ellaria voiced out and finds the dragon queen next. "The Dornish men have a strong presence at sea. If you'd allow, Your Grace, Lady Greyjoy and I can sail to Essos and intercepts Euron's fleet and crush them before they get here."
The surroundings pause as Daenerys thinks about it. Her gaze traces down towards Arya seated at the end of the table but the young girl hasn't moved or spoken ever since the meeting started.
The young Stark, on the other hand, has been lost in thought about the Crow's Eye last visit. The only thing worth noting about Braavos is the Iron Bank and the House of Black and White. Did Euron go there to borrow some money or to offer a name to the Faceless Men or perhaps something else? She feels like she's missing something important but can't pinpoint what it is.
Varys leans forward. "I suggest the Lady Stark should join the fleet. After all, who would know the Crow's Eye better than the one that saw him in her visions?"
Arya can definitely feel everyone's eyes on her. She glances outside the open window instead. The sky is grey and looks about to rain anytime soon. The odd that Daenerys fleet will come in contact with Euron's is within the scope of possibility but the young Stark doesn't think she will be able to leave Daenerys alone here in Kings Landing.
Ellaria followed through. "Aye, you could be of use to us, Lady Stark. Perhaps your visions can help us find him at sea." The pretentious tone didn't go unnoticed by Arya.
"My visions don't work like that."
"And how does it work exactly, my lady, if you'll be so kind as to tell us." Varys joins, cynical.
Arya meets his gaze squarely. Grey orbs unkind and empty. "It involves a weirwood tree and a person bleeding to his death. Preferably the blood of notable lords and ladies that have the power within the royal court."
An awkward and uncomfortable silence befell the room as the Spider finally tears his gaze away. When she finds Ellaria next, the older woman offers nothing and did the same. Arya would have snorted at their retreat forms but abandon her thoughts when Daenerys gave her a look.
"The Iron fleet and the Tyrell men are the only soldiers we have in the city right now." Daenerys addressed the rest again. "Splitting them will only make this city vulnerable. Anything can happen at sea and there's no guarantee that you will find the enemies. I'd rather not gamble away my resources by the mercy of wind and sails."
And Arya relaxed on her seat.
"We'll start barricading the walls and gates and build more arsenals." Jorah offered.
Daenerys agrees silently and finds Ellaria next. "Have your men ride to Kings Landing at once. I expect to see the 20,000 Martell men that you promised me, Lady Ellaria."
The Dornish inclines her head. "Of course, Your Grace."
Satisfied, Daenerys finds the Master of Whisperer. "Any words on the street?"
"Nothing more than the usual. Thanks to Lady Olenna, merchants and traders flourish and the people sleep with full bellies at night." He gave the Tyrell elderly a small glance of appreciation.
The dragon queen did the same which Olenna acknowledge in silence. "That's good. Send words that I'm looking for soldiers. Anyone who knows how to or wants to fight can sign up in the Queen's army."
"Your Grace?" Varys looks confused. "You have more than enough men at the moment."
"I need to be seen as less as a foreign queen and more as one of their own. And to do that, I can't rely on the Unsullied and the Dothraki forever." Daenerys explained but the Spider hides his displeasure well. "I know what concerns you. But, I'm not forcing anyone to fight in my stead. It will be their choice if they choose to do so. Ser Jorah, I need you to prepare an appealing incentive for the future soldiers of the Queen. Do this with Lord Varys. And as for the remaining Lannisters soldiers that we caught, you can release them after you made the offer. Make sure they know the benefits that they will miss if they decide to walk away."
Everyone at the table has a moment of comprehension as Daenerys finished except for the young woman at the end of the table who is stoic and looking ahead outside the window again. It doesn't look like she is paying attention but as Daenerys studies her profile, the dragon queen thought she saw the corner of Arya's mouth lifts. Before she can—or even wants to—understand what that could possibly mean, she finds her advisors instead. "Anything else?"
When no one offers anything, the queen dismisses the meeting. Arya gets out of her seat to stand and leave with the others but as she is about to walk away, Daenerys calls her. The young Stark stops and turns to find Daenerys and Missandei are the only ones left.
"I have a question if you don't mind." The dragon queen beckoned to come closer and Arya moves to the two in question, hands behind her back.
"Yes?"
"Have you written to your family?" Daenerys asked.
The young Stark stilled, eyes unfocused. "No, I haven't got the chance." Of course, she had thought about it, but Arya doesn't know what to say. If Bran told them about what happened, then she doesn't really have anything else to write. But, if Bran hasn't, then Jon, Sansa and Rickon don't know that she's alive and Arya think that's better. Going after Euron Greyjoy is not exactly a walk in the garden.
"Stark," Daenerys calls and the grey orbs in front clear again. "The ravens are available if you want to send words."
She forces a smile. "I appreciate it. But, I think I'll write to them once we defeat the Crow's Eye."
Daenerys waits for the girl in front to change her mind, but she looks pretty adamant about it. "Very well… Since you mentioned about the Crow's Eye, I want to know more about him and his dragonhorn. How exactly does the horn work against my dragons?"
The young Stark shifted her stands. "I don't know... I didn't actually see him using it." She wasn't exactly there when he invaded the Iron Island and Kings Landing back then. And the despicable man didn't exactly give a demonstration on how it worked. All she had was his words.
Dread creeps up on her. What if it was all a lie and he has something else? Something far greater than a horn?
She looks down in a frown. No, Bran had confirmed it, so, it must be true.
It has to be true or else millions of lives would be in jeopardy. Flashes of her loved ones lifeless faces decide to haunt her right then. She swallowed down bile and pinches the back of her hand, hard. Though, the pain doesn't seem to be of any help. As Arya was battling with her inner thoughts, she didn't notice that Daenerys had asked her another question.
The dragon queen shared a look with Missandei as the young woman seems to be lost in her own world. She stands up and moves closer. "Stark." Her voice is louder.
Arya finally looks up to find violet eyes far clearer than before. She blinks and memories of her past encounter with Euron emptied. "Yes?"
Though Daenerys is curious by what just happened, she decides to not pursue it and repeats her question instead. "What did you see of Euron then?"
With a swallow, she is forced to live her nightmares again. "I see deaths of thousands, burnt bodies and ruins." She can even smell the scorched flesh and taste the bile of blood in her mouth. "I see what he's capable of if he has your dragons. I see only the aftermath."
This is the first time that Daenerys recognizes how haunted the girl looked and she doesn't know what to make of it. "We won't let that happen, will we?" She tries, gaining her attention again. And little by little, the girl's face frees and settles to her usual stoic features. Daenerys continues, "I had hope that you would provide more information about the artefact that he possessed so that I'll be more prepared. But, I guess that wouldn't matter."
"What do you mean?"
"If somehow, everything else fails, we need to have another measure and I'm not planning to sit and watch the war happening from my balcony."
Understanding seeps into Arya instantly. "You can't be involved. You can't use your dragons against a fiend dragon hunter. What if all he needs is for the sound of his horn to carry through the air?"
"I will only use my dragons as a last resort, which I doubt we'll need. But, if it comes down to it then we have no other choice."
Determination slips inside the young Stark. If it really comes down to it, she needs to kill Euron before he even gets to use his fancy horn. She finds Daenerys again. "Then, we need to ready the dragons as well."
"What do you have in mind?"
The winged beast might not have a chance against invisible sound or whatever the dragonhorn will do. But, if they're out there then it's still a war zone. Not to mention that Daenerys will be there as well. Finally decided, Arya suggested, "How about some armour for a start."
"Dragon's scales are harder than a plate of steel. My children don't need armours against arrows while they're up in the sky. Besides, wearing those steels will only slow them down."
"What you said applied with the scales of a full-grown dragon. Drogon might not need one, but Rhaegal and Viserion, on the other hand, they didn't get to grow as much as Drogon had."
The violet orbs widen slightly in shock at the young Stark's knowledge. The time that she had locked her two children inside the catacombs back in Meereen flashes through and guilt carries over every time she remembers it.
Arya notices the change and realized what she had just revealed. In another life, Daenerys had shared about locking up Viserion and Rhaegal after the threat that they hold to the civilians in Meereen and how guilty she felt at that time.
The young Stark regrets the choice of her words. If only she'd been more careful. Instantly, she steers back at the main focus they're discussing. "And Euron might not even be using normal arrows or weapons to take the dragons. He has a magical horn that can bind dragons to his will. It's not impossible for him to attack with enhanced bolts that can penetrate the dragon's scales. If the steel can provide another layer of protection, even a small amount, perhaps we should consider it."
The silver-haired woman can see nothing but honesty and pure concern from the young girl. And the act puzzles Daenerys greatly, to say the least. Ultimately, she didn't have any reason to not try either.
*
Precisely at midday, Arya was ready and waiting by the stable. After their last discussion and Daenerys agreement of her suggestion, she had offered to help take the armours' measurements from the dragons and Daenerys had agreed they can do so at noon. She expects to see the dragon queen but instead, Missandei appears from the inside of the establishment. Two stable boys— each has a horse in their hand—join from behind her as she walks to the outside where Arya is.
"Forgive me if I made you wait, Lady Stark." Missandei inclines her head in greeting. "I will be escorting you to the Dragonpit. The Queen will meet you there."
Arya moves to take the horse that was offered and thanked the stable boy. Once they left, she meets Missandei's gaze. "You know, that's four times now since you ask for my forgiveness. Am I that terrifying?"
The Naathi looks taken aback by the bluntness but it was gone instantly as she saw Arya's relaxed features. A building smile takes its place instead. "You are, actually."
"Now I feel offended."
A full smile finally graces Missandei's features which Arya mirrors. The older woman pulls her horse's rein. "Shall we depart?"
"What, you're not going to ask for forgiveness?"
"Alright, Lady Stark. I will not mention the words 'forgive me' ever again in your presence."
Satisfied, the young Stark pulls the rein and joins the Naathi's side. "We should depart."
*
The sun was nowhere in sight as grey clouds fill the skies. The breeze is also stronger than usual as their horses trot lightly along the busy roads in the city as Arya and Missandei try to get to their destination. Even so, the citizens of Kings Landing don't seem to be bothered by the slightly chilly weather. Shops and establishments open in business and people come and go, busy in their own world.
"So, how do you find Westeros?" Arya glances to the older woman at the side. Down below, people part ways to let the horses through but more so that they don't get trampled by the mares.
Missandei still has her focus on the road, mindful of those walking by. "Westeros is great, Lady Stark."
"What do you like about it?"
The older woman paused, glances to find grey orbs waiting. "The people here are nice." She tried.
Arya raised a brow. "Really? How so?" When Missandei takes too long to answer, the young Stark continues. "You haven't met that many people besides the one from inside the castle, have you?"
The older woman looks guilty. "No, I haven't. Unfortunately, there are many things that require my attention in the red keep. This is the first time I get to experience the city."
Compassion washes over and Arya wonders if a particular silver-haired woman encounters the same fate.
"But, I'm sure they're nice anyway. There is this one girl that I knew. She showed up from nowhere and started preaching about strange sightings. Despite that, she was kind." Missandei said as they turn a corner.
A smile breaks free. "She sounds familiar and definitely a remarkable person. I would like to meet her someday."
Missandei shakes her head softly, amused.
As they near the Street of Sisters, Arya decided. "I know a place where you can go and taste all of the city's finest traits."
"There is such a place?"
The young Stark feels the bubbling of excitement inside her. "Of course. We can visit it on the way back if you want."
Missandei shares the same reaction. "I would like that."
*
As they finally arrived at the Dragonpit, Rhaegal and Viserion had already been occupying the space as they mind about their own business. But there is no Drogon and Daenerys anywhere near them. The young Stark can't really take offence to the tardiness. After all, she knows how easily seemingly minor things can become urgent at the last minute, especially when you try to govern a kingdom.
Arya decides she can do this without the older woman's presence and starts packing her things to do the job. "Are you coming?" She finds Missandei next.
"Isn't it better if we wait for the queen?"
"Daenerys might be late. I wish to start soon to save everyone's time."
Missandei still looks reluctant but the grey eyes in front are unwavering and full of confidence so she inclined. "I'll stay here and watch over the horses. I don't want to disturb your work."
With a nod, the young woman shouldered her bag before moving toward the resting dragons and left Missandei near the entryway.
Slowly, she steps closer and closer until two pair of eyes thrown her way. A low growl comes out from the two dragons and Arya stops. It doesn't sound like the creatures are in agitation from where she is.
Just then, Rhaegal moves first as he props himself up with his claws and did nothing else. Feeling sure again, she decides to step forward once more. It just so happen that Rhaegal is the one that is closest to her. Her heartbeats increase similar to the feeling of excitement. When the dragon is finally towering over her, carefully Arya reaches out to touch his snout.
A sigh of relief escapes when the green dragon meets her hand midway. Warmth spreads on the palm of her hand and into her chest at the contact. Arya then proceeds to gently rub him in his favourite spot and he closes his eyes in content.
"Did you have your lunch?" She asked with a smile which Rhaegal only responded with a soft breathy sound. "You can sleep it off… It'll be easier to take your measurement."
The last thing Arya expected is Rhaegal's understanding but the dragon instantly lowers himself to the ground and lay down. His wings prop under as he rest his head and his body stretches behind him.
She chuckles with disbelief at her luck and hurries to get her things out of the bag. A long and narrow measurement stripe, papers, a bottle of ink, and a feather pen. She unsheathes Needle from her belt last. The young Stark organizes all of those things on the ground. Satisfied, she grabs the measurement tool first and turns to face the now sleeping dragon.
Moving to Rhaegal's head, she made quick work as to not disturb him or lose the posture he's at. She takes in every angle that matters and memorizes them. Once done, Arya heads to the paper and begin to write those numbers out. She did the same to his visible torso and his left and right side.
Viserion who has been watching with mild interest from up the broken stairs finally grew bored and flies towards where the action is. Arya was too busy laying out the measurement at Rhaegal's side that she didn't realize the incoming dragon. Viserion flaps his wings creating a whole gust of wind and Arya runs to him in horror.
"No!" She exclaimed as the paper that once on the ground are now flying in the air. "Look what you did!"
Viserion only snorts and Arya throws her head in frustration as she runs to collect the missing papers. The dragon ignores her and lands close to his sleeping brother and tries to disturb his peace instead.
Luckily for Arya, the papers didn't scatter far enough. When she gets back near the two beasts, she doesn't even try to stop Viserion and decides to count the information that she had gathered instead. Relief washes over as the measurements that she had painstakingly collected are still intact and aren't missing. Sitting on the ground, Arya starts to write out the last numbers and sections of Rhaegal's body.
That is the exact time when a shriek sounded in the sky. Drogon circles the pit for a while before he finally lands across them. Rhaegal finally stirs from his slumber at the commotion. He made a sound of protest at being disturbed which Viserion took a hit—as what he deserved. Arya ignores the drama that happened behind her and picks up her treasured papers when Daenerys finally climbs down Drogon.
The dragon queen who saw the whole ordeal ever since from up the sky doesn't know what to make of the scene in front. Sure, Daenerys saw how her children warm up to the girl a while back but she thought that was a one-time occurrence. But now she's not so sure anymore. She walks forward and meets the young woman in the middle. "Stark." She greeted.
"I've done the measurement on Rhaegal and am just starting to do the same with Viserion," Arya said back.
"You started without me?" To say that Daenerys is impressed in an understatement.
With a nod, Arya hands the papers.
As Daenerys reads what is written, she can't help but be amazed for the second time that day. The information is well put and organized. Every measurement from Rhaegal's head to his hind legs was recorded neatly.
Arya misunderstood the older woman's silence as something else. "You can measure them again if you want. I might have missed a number or something."
The dragon queen instantly looks up. "That won't be necessary. I trust you."
Though the young Stark's face is indifference, her insides are another matter entirely. "Can you help me with Viserion? He's quite the mischief, that one."
That is the last thing that Daenerys heard anyone would ever describe Viserion. A beginning of a smile starts to form. "What did he do to earn that?" She asked, curious, as they start walking towards the dragon in question.
"Disturbance at work, harassment—to name a few. I'm sure he'll cause more if you didn't show up in time." Arya answered. And as she steals a glance at Daenerys, she was pleased when she caught a curve on those lips.
*
Daenerys had indeed been a huge help with Viserion. While the older woman tends to the dragon's attention, Arya did her job without disruption. She ended her measures much quicker than Rhaegal since she knows what to take now and which part is necessary.
Once done, the dragon queen requested that they should do Drogon too. Even though he might not need it, Daenerys guess it wouldn't hurt to be safe. That is why they have moved on to the black-red dragon next.
Drogon had settled comfortably on the ground as Daenerys pets his resting head and Arya starts her work at the side of it.
"Can I ask you something?" Grey orbs find violet ones then. At the dragon queen's acceptance, Arya continues. "I noticed you changed your Lord Hand." She inquired.
Drogon opens his eyes and growls lowly. His orange-sunset orbs are scrutinizing the girl standing by his head.
"I didn't hear any question in that." Daenerys quipped.
The young Stark can feel irritation coming off from the two dragons. She stops her work and focuses on the older woman instead. "What happened to Tyrion?"
Daenerys did the same and pulls her hand away from Drogon's snout. "He resigned from his position, said that he can't be my Hand any longer because he didn't deserve it."
That was certainly unexpected. Arya couldn't believe that the Lannister had adhered to her advice back in the dungeon. A distant shriek echoes up the sky where Rhaegal and Viserion are flying in leisure. Daenerys looks away and reaches out to Drogon again where the beast closes his eyes once more to rest.
Arya, on the other hand, continues measuring where she had left off. "Where is he now?" She voiced.
It takes Daenerys a while before she finally answers. "Overseeing the walls' protection with Ser Jorah, perhaps. He offered his assistance to manning the city since he had done it before in the battle of the Blackwater. With his seasoned experiences, I couldn't say no."
Something akin to proud and melancholy filled the young Stark. The great thing about everything is that everyone is working together despite the circumstances and Arya couldn't ask for more.
She concentrates on her work again. Measuring and writing them down, trying not to miss anything significant. Comfortable silence filled the space as the chilly wind envelops them further. And when she's finally finished, Drogon instantly stretches in delight as he's finally free of the temporary prison.
Having watched from afar, Missandei closes in on them with the horses. "Your Grace," The Naathi greets which Daenerys acknowledge.
As Arya gathered her things and shouldered her bag again, she joins the two women. "I'll be handing these measurements to the master armourer so they can start on it." She finds Daenerys. "Would you like to come?"
"Surely you don't need my help to hand over some papers."
"I just thought you would want to meet the person that made your children's armours. Besides, it's a great incentive for the men to have the Queen comes down to their shops… They'll work harder and faster." Arya tacks on the last part, if it's not obvious enough.
The air paused as Daenerys thinks it over. She guesses she could spare some time. "Fine." She finally agreed and takes a horse from Missandei.
"You can take mine, Lady Arya. I'll walk." The Naathi offered just as Daenerys settles on the young Stark's transportation.
"That's fine, you ride it. I prefer walking anyway."
The Naathi looks conflicted. "You have just finished your work, you must be tired. It's not appropriate for me to let the lady walk while I ride."
Arya sighs softly. "It's fine, Missandei. Really."
Daenerys who has been watching the whole exchange starts to shift uncomfortably on the saddle. Which is absurd, she thought. It's not like she had stolen this horse because she actually owns it. But, the two are still debating who should ride and who should walk. So, Daenerys decides to offer Arya a ride together, if only so that they can depart already. But, before she can do that the young Stark beats her to it.
"We can ride together, then." Arya declares. Without waiting for the Naathi's reply, she hops on and held out a hand which Missandei finally took. With the arrangement finally settled, the young woman meets Daenerys gaze. "Shall we?"
Silently, the dragon queen trots alongside the two but her mind is anything but, as she just realized that the first solution she had thought was offering the young Stark to ride with her and not Missandei.
*
As they ride pass street by street, Arya can't help but steal a glance or two at Daenerys beside her. She can see those violet depths busy taking everything in their paths, studying the buildings and the citizens that are doing about their business and some more.
No one seems to notice the royal presence that rode by. To them, the three women could be just another merchants or foreigners that come to visit the city. And for that, Arya was grateful. This way, Daenerys and Missandei will be able to enjoy the environment as any other person would.
As they are finally nearing the place that Arya recognized, she goes ahead and halts her horse in front of a building. After getting down from it, she helps Missandei the same.
Daenerys joins them late, still on top of her horse. "This is not the master's armourer, Stark." The establishment that they stopped in front is buzzing with chatters from the inside.
Arya looks up to find the older woman's confusion features. "No. This place is called The Swan. The best place that offers the best food in the city. I promised Missandei that I would bring her here since it's along the way to the Street of Steels."
Missandei joins too. "If it's too much, Your Grace, Lady Arya and I can find another time to visit the shop."
The violet orbs look at the two women and finally made a decision. "Of course not. We already stopped, so we might as well go inside." She gets down and ties her horse next to theirs.
Missandei smiles at that and Arya leads the way. Inside, the chatters are definitely louder as the mess hall is filled with people. Fortunately, she finds an empty table when a group of men are about to leave. "Come." And gestures for them to follow her.
Once they are seated, Arya excused herself to get the food from the counter. She ordered three servings of the infamous dish. As her tray is finally filled, she returns to the two waiting women. "Lo and behold, The Swan's notorious dish."
Daenerys and Missandei look at the food at then at Arya before exchanging a look among themselves.
"Those are just sausages." The dragon queen raised a brow, unimpressed.
Arya scoffs at the obvious. "Yes. The best sausages in town possibly even the world."
"Sausages are the same anywhere in the world, Stark."
"Not this one."
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Missandei takes the first bite. And as soon as the taste explodes in her mouth, she looks at the young woman in shock. "It's great. I never tasted anything like this before."
Arya smiles, proud.
With a crease on her brow, Daenerys cut a small piece and eat it too, ready to prove the smirking Stark wrong. But Missandei was right. "What is this?" she asked, bewildered. Not really expecting it to be this good.
Arya tries to contain herself at how the dragon queen reacted. "Sausages, of course."
Daenerys only glares and takes another bite.
"But if you're asking about the ingredients, no one knows. Not even the cook is disclosed." The young woman provides.
"How can that be?" Missandei asked before shoving another bite into her mouth.
"That's their way to protect the recipe and the cook from possible competitors."
Missandei hums. "Smart."
Arya had heard of the famous establishment from a while back when she was investigating a way to get inside the Lion's den. After everything that happened in between her time travels, she's just glad that she still remembered this place exists. The two women seem to really enjoy the famous dish. Especially, the silver-haired queen who is apparently far too busy emptying her plate.
With a contain smile, Arya digs in too.
Comfortable silence accompanies them save for the chatters from the customers around. But, the noise was drowned by the exquisite taste they experienced for them to be troubled with.
"How was it?" Arya asked once they're done.
Missandei puts down her cup with a smile. "I will definitely visit this shop again. Thank you for bringing me here."
The young Stark mirrors the smile and inclined her head in return. She finds Daenerys next with an inquiring look.
The dragon queen masks her face into indifference. "It was alright."
Though, Daenerys plate begs to differ since not even a drop of sauce is left on it. Arya chuckles softly and accepts it anyway.
Just then, a sudden chatter makes its way to her ears. She would have ignored it but there is a familiarity to it that Arya recognized. She glances to the table across where the sound was coming from and found a group of men talking animatedly. And as she studies their faces, she stops at one man.
Derwin Harlow.
She stares at him in incredulity. She's sure the man is Derwin. Memories of them compete in a race up the masts present themselves and when they vanish soon after, Derwin is still there, seating across the room. Alive and talkative as ever.
Missandei notices Arya's staring. "Those men are Lady Yara's men. We sailed together in Black Wind." She provides.
As if he heard them, Derwin glances up and meet Arya's gaze. When he notices he's been staring at, he flashes his best smile making the young Stark chuckles at his unchanged behaviour even now.
Daenerys had watched the whole exchange. "You know him?"
Grey eyes finally tear away and find inquiring violet ones. "I know of him."
"He seems taken with you. He still hasn't stop staring." Missandei conveniently provides.
The Naathi was right and when the young woman looks ahead again, Derwin raises his cup and made a salute from afar, all the while grinning from ear to ear. Arya raises hers and did the same.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Daenerys voiced.
Arya turns to the older woman, confused. "Drinking my ale?"
"Leading him on… Don't you already have someone precious waiting for you back at home? Of course, what you do with your life is your own and I only advise you to reconsider before you do anything you might regret."
The air pause as Arya tries to decipher what Daenerys just said. And then she recalls what she told the dragon queen in the dungeon yesterday. "You've misunderstood. He was just someone—"
"You don't need to explain yourself, Stark. It's of no concern to me what you did in your spare time or who you're mingling with." Daenerys effectively cuts in.
Missandei leans forward and whispered. "He's coming here."
Instantly, Arya's attention shifts to the man once more and sure enough, Derwin is already halfway towards them.
"Greetings, m'lady," Derwin said. His eyes never leaving hers even when there are other ladies at the table. "I'm Derwin. What's yer name?"
He even sounds the same as she last remembered. "Arya."
"That's a pretty name."
"Thanks. So is yours."
The Ironborn looks pleased with himself and Arya savours it. Knowing that he survived this life fills a small hole in her pit of hollowness. She wonders if old man Xander is around too.
"Derwin, is it?" Daenerys suddenly interrupts.
His gaze finally flickers to the dragon queen for the first time and little by little, recognition sparks in his eyes. Instantly, his knee on the floor, head down. "Forgive me, Your Grace. I didn't recognize ya sooner."
His abrupt display catches the attention of everyone in the building. "That's quite alright. You can rise, Derwin." Daenerys ordered quickly.
He does as was told, but, the deed is done as the chatters around them die down. Arya can feel everyone's eye on them as whispers exchanged next. As the news spread about the display, the other Ironborn from Derwin's table stands up and hurry towards where their queen is. A chorus of 'Your Grace' escape their lips. And if that is not obvious, Arya doesn't know what is.
*
The shadows of the evening have long dissolved into the assembling darkness of the nighttime. Outside the window, the air became cooler and the crickets sang. Arya was lying on her bed, trying to get the much-needed rest.
It had been a long day. From the meeting first thing in the morning to attending the dragons and then the master's armourer—which the Ironborn had ended up escorting them the rest of the way.
A soft smile escapes as she remembered meeting Derwin and at how carefree Missandei and Daenerys had been. That is until the dragon queen's cover was discovered. Arya saw the way Daenerys shoulders tense and her back straightens up on her saddle as people openly staring. She guessed being gawked at can be uncomfortable and straining.
Arya turns to her side for a more comfortable position and her thoughts wander again, but this time to the Crow's Eyes. Within a fortnight he would be here in Westeros and she doesn't know if she's ready to face him. She doesn't know if she can save everyone this time. She forces her eyes to close yet her mind still remains the same. Doubtful and jarring.
With a huff, she pushes herself up and put on her boots. She dons her cloak next and grabs Needle last before finally going out of the room. There are some guards that she encountered along the way but they know who she was and let her be.
Borrowing a spear and also a bow and quiver of arrows from the armoury, she heads to the courtyard. There, torches were mounted, lighting up the area and Arya sets aside her cloak on the ground beside the fire.
She starts off with her archery since it was the latest type of weaponry that she's familiar with. It's been a while since her last training with all that has happened but as soon as her grips meet the bow and she nocks an arrow, the whole thing feels familiar again. Focusing on the target, she releases and the tip hits the target's bullseye with a thud.
And soon her routine began.
As always, the young Stark lost sense of time as she was too absorbed with her spear now. Turning and thrusting. Jumping and pulling. Her chest heaves and her breathing loud. She was too engrossed in trying to defeat her ghost that she didn't realize someone was watching from the sideline.
Not only when the blade of her spear aligned with a familiar figure, did Arya notices. Instantly, her spear lowers and she wipes off the sweat on her face. Her breathing still heavy from all the exertion.
"Do you know how loud you were being?" Daenerys started.
The older woman is standing by the torch and as Arya glances further a few feet behind her, two guards are faithfully there. She had told Daenerys that Euron might have hired a faceless man and advised the older woman to take precaution. She was glad that Daenerys had agreed to it.
Remembering the older woman's question, Arya closes in. "I'm sorry if I wake you." She said as the night air cools her body.
"It was a joke, Stark. My room is not anywhere near here."
Arya blinks and stares at the violet depths in a daze. "Ah, yes. You're right." She answered late remembering that the dragon queen's chamber is far from the courtyard. Her eyes seek Daenerys again. "That was a terrible joke."
Daenerys ignores the statement and picks up Needle from the ground. "I've always wanted to learn how to fight. Perhaps you can train me."
When the older woman offers nothing else, Arya probes. "Right now?"
"You can't sleep. I can't sleep. So, why not spend the time doing something worthwhile."
It seems that Daenerys has already made up her mind if the set on her gaze is anything to go by. Arya plants her spear in the ground and regards the older woman the same. "What are you trying to accomplish in learning to fight?"
"I can't always depend on my dragons. If men come at my most vulnerable, then I want to be able to hold them on my own."
"If men come at you, then I suggest you run. It's effective and it keeps you alive." Daenerys throws a look and Arya defends. "There's no shame in running. You lived to fight another day."
The fire crackles beside them as the cool wind drifts by.
"Alright, how about when I can't run? What then?"
Arya guessed the older woman has a point. Though training swords takes a lot of effort and time, it's not impossible to teach something of importance in a short moment. Her palms out as she seeks Needle. "You can't use that. It's dangerous."
Understanding and something else Daenerys can't pinpoint—a sense of thrill, perhaps—washes over at the young woman's compliance. She returns Needle to its owner.
The young Stark sets the skinny sword aside where it once was. She then pulls out her spear and proceeds to break it. A short snap echoes through the courtyard as soon as her boot comes in contact and the sharp blade falls off. "Here." She offered the now blunt staff.
As the stick is in Daenerys possession, Arya walks back to the centre of the courtyard. Behind her, the older woman follows after she had discarded her cloak. When they are far enough and facing one another, Arya straightens and starts.
"Grip the staff properly with both hands. Put your dominant hand at the top and the other at the bottom of the grip. If you come upon any stray swords, then they might be heavy, so you'll need both hands. Once you have the weapon, you must be ready. Hold it upright in front." She closes in to examine Daenerys stance. "Put your elbows in." And taps it softly.
Daenerys does as was told, bringing the stick closer. Eyes never leaving the ashen greys. "And now?"
Arya goes back to her initial position. "Now you're ready to attack. Since you don't look like someone that can cause serious damage without wounding yourself in the process that means people don't see you as a threat."
"Always the charmer."
"That means you get one clear opportunity to attack. And when you do, instead of the obvious you can cheat your way."
Daenerys loses her stance, her arms down as she begins to feel numb already. "And how do you do that?"
Arya closes in again and takes the staff from the dragon queen's grip. She poses in a similar stance. "When you attack, be it straight down from the top, diagonally down to the left." She did the moves in slow motion, stopping before it actually hits the older woman. "Or whatever moves you want, it'll be obvious. The enemy could stop you or if they're feeling smug, they'll just evade. That's when you cheat."
Slowly, the staff goes down from the left again. "Instead of aiming for their torso, your blade will go the other way." And then Arya changes course in the opposite direction. "Go for the head but aim at the arm. Go for the neck but aim at the leg." When comprehension dawns in those violet orbs, Arya returns the staff. "Now, try and hit me."
Daenerys ready her stance again but as she faces the young woman, she's not so sure anymore. "Hit you? What if I accidentally hurt you?"
Though Arya's inside spreads with warmth at the concern, she masked her face into indifference. "Don't flatter yourself, Your Grace. I doubt you ever will."
That definitely did the trick as the violet eyes in front are set. Straightening her stance, Daenerys makes her first move which Arya easily backs away from.
"I didn't see any counter from that. You just went straight to my head."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I can't help but aim at the biggest part of your body."
And then Daenerys is off again. This time she swings to the right and then feigns left. It caught nothing but air.
"Too slow."
Another swings from the bottom and then the right and then up and then left. Yet it did nothing, Daenerys is out of idea and out of angle to attack from. Her chest rises and falls quickly, demanding air. And her body burns from the rapid movements.
Arya walks closer then. "Do you want to stop?"
Daenerys finds waiting gaze. "No. Do you?"
The corner of her lips upturned and she inclined her head in acceptance. As soon as the older woman collects herself again, she starts attacking.
Daenerys moves one way and Arya another. Neither caught one or the other as they move about the space that they created. At the close proximity, Arya can't help but admire the determination that the woman in front displayed, even if that woman is incessantly trying to hit her in the head with a stick. Despite the clumsy moves, she still thinks that the older woman couldn't look any more stunning than this. The way that her silver hair—loosen and unbraided—moves freely in the air and at those unrelenting violet depths. It was calming, to say the least.
As Arya was about to back away from Daenerys swing from the top, she comes face to face with the blunt edge of the staff instead. Her eyes wide in recognition but she was too slow to react as it hit her right in the chest. A soft grunt escapes at the sudden pain and her steps falter behind her.
Daenerys instantly closes in; too shock to acknowledge that she had succeeded hitting Arya as she saw the painful look the girl had. "Are you alright?" Her breathing is still heavy.
The young Stark rubs her chest, trying to ease the pain, but more so to ease her embarrassment. "I think you left a dent..."
"What?" Daenerys step closer in confusion. She doubts she had hit that hard. In an attempt to ease her guilt, her hand reaches out without thinking to replace Arya's hand. But, she found nothing amiss. All she feels are heartbeats, a strong one. And as she finds those grey orbs again, they were shining and Arya was smiling.
"On my pride." She finished.
Daenerys was frozen in place at the sight. She has never seen Arya's smile this wide and honest and brilliant before. She realizes late that her hand is still on top of the girl's chest as the strong heartbeats make its presence known. She blinks and instantly retracts it.
Oblivious, Arya continues. "You did great. Do you want to try again?"
The heartbeat is still loud in Daenerys ears and she can feel them in her pulse. She frowns and blames it at the nature of her activity just now. "I'm feeling tired. Perhaps another day."
As soon as Arya takes the staff from Daenerys hand, the older woman turns and walks away. Without as much as a glance, she exits the courtyard. Her two guards following close behind.
Alone once more, the young Stark chooses to end the night as well and starts to gather her things where Daenerys cloak is left among them. Daenerys must have forgotten about it and Arya decides she can return in on the morrow. Donning hers, she takes them all and walks away. And later that night when Arya lay in her bed and peace in her sleep, the ghost of her dream isn't around to haunt her night anymore.
Not much can be said the same for another.