In which hearts moved and carried.
*Year 304 AC (After Conquest) – Present Day*
The morning sun does not shine as bright as Arya remembered the next day as she wakes up from her sleep. Outside, the scenery is grey. Birds' chirping sounded weak and far. And the clouds gather in a pile, up the skies, obscuring the light. Despite the bad weather, the young Stark was unaffected.
She stretches from her bed with a satisfied sigh and as she gets ready for the day, her heart felt lighter. Even her steps feel like they are bouncing as she walks along the hallways to a certain dragon queen's chamber. The older woman's forgotten cloak secured around her arm.
As Arya nears the room, however, Daenerys guards are nowhere to be seen and when she enters it, the older woman is not around. Though curious, she turns around and decides to search at other places instead. She was about to turn a corner when Missandei pops in her line of vision.
"Lady Arya." The Naathi greeted, surprised.
Arya smiles. "Good morning, Missandei. How are you today?"
"Good morning. I feel fine, thank you." Missandei paused as she studies the person in front. "Did something good happen? You seem cheerful." She asked lightly.
"Oh, I just had a good sleep last night is all." It's a wonder what an actual sleep makes you feel. "I was hoping to see Daenerys. Do you perhaps know where she is?"
"Her Grace has just left the castle a while ago to visit Flea Bottom."
She raised a brow. "Flea Bottom? What for?"
"I heard that she planned to better the settlements there, wanting to equalize every part of the city."
"I see. That's great." For Daenerys herself to take part in improving the city makes Arya's insides spread with warmth. "Did she take her guards with her?"
"Of course. Aggo and Qorro hadn't left her sides since you mentioned about the possible assassination. Besides, Ser Jorah and a few others are with her as well."
She relaxed at that. Since Daenerys seems to be doing alright, the young woman decides she should do her part and scouts the city gates as well. If only to know that the defences preparation are undergoing as planned. She finds Missandei again and offers the cloak. "Can you give this to her when she comes back? She left it last night."
Missandei throws a curious look as she takes the queen's cloak. "Last night?" And when she finds grey orbs again, she blinks, astounded. "You were with Daenerys last night?"
Slowly, her cheeks redden. "Yes, but not as you might think." When the Naathi only stares unresponsive, Arya fakes a laugh. "Not that I implied that I think you're talking about Daenerys and me that way or any other way." She stopped muttering rubbish as an amused smile adorned Missandei's features.
"So, what were you two doing then, if I may ask?"
Arya straightens and ignores the warmth that spreads on her face. "We were just training sword-fighting in the courtyard."
"Late at night?"
"Well, she said she couldn't sleep and she's the one that wanted to learn how to fight. I didn't coerce her into anything." Arya didn't know why she has the sudden needs to defend herself against whatever this is.
The brown orbs didn't falter. If anything, they looked brighter. "The queen certainly knows how to persuade people, isn't she? Though perhaps, next time you can offer her training during the day instead of ungodly hours. She had trouble sleeping last night and I assumed it had something to do with you putting too much exertion on her."
The young Stark blinks, uncomfortable and loss of words.
Missandei smiles sweetly. "And don't worry, Lady Arya. I'll make sure to pass this to her." She gestures at the cloak now around her arm.
Arya returns the smile, albeit more forcedly. Bidding goodbye, the Naathi walks away to her intended destination leaving the young woman contemplating on her own. It takes her a walk outside to the Red Keep's gate for a certain silver-haired woman to clear from her mind and the colour on her face to return.
*
"Here to visit me?" Tyrion greets as soon as the young Stark is within hearing range.
Arya had decided to scout the city gates and started with the river gate where she'd encounter a familiar face. The former Hand is there to oversee the working soldiers. She only nods in greeting and walks pass him instead, to take a closer look at the busy men who are preoccupied, building—what look like—trebuchets.
"How many days do you think they can finish these?" She meets the mismatch orbs at the side.
"Perhaps within a week we'd have around ten of them."
"Did you design them?" She remembered how skilful and detailed he was in sketching her wheelchair and saddle another lifetime ago.
He hums in response. "Just the basic mechanics."
"Where would you place them once they're ready?"
The Lannister pauses and studies her, all focus. "Are you interrogating me?"
She wanted to roll her eyes at the misplaced alarm. "I'm just concern and curious."
"Personally or on behalf of others?"
"Personally and on behalf of the million people in this city."
He clears his throat and forces a smile. "Right. Forgive me for being paranoid. But, since I resigned as Hand, it unnerves me that I'm even here still. I expected to be put in trial and perhaps with mercy would be banished. Yet, I was put in charge for the city's defences."
"I thought you volunteered to do this."
"Well, yes I did. But, I wasn't expecting Daenerys to actually accept it."
Knowing Tyrion for two lifetimes now, Arya cannot help but notice the distress that his body emancipate even as he shrugs it off. At the set of his jaw and the tense of his shoulders and she fully understands where his worries come from. He did after all betray Daenerys' trust when he assisted his brother's escape.
"And now you think she's setting a trap for you? Hoping that you would screw things up so she can have reasons to finally sentence you to die?"
His gaze falters. "Do you think so too?"
She softens and answered honestly, "I think that if Daenerys really wants you dead, then she'd have done it already. Don't you think that she already knew who freed your brother? You've made it pretty obvious the last time I remembered."
Those mismatch orbs settles and Tyrion's rigidity finally lessens. "That's just it. Even without proof, she already knows that I involved. Yet, here I am." She tilts her head to him and watch as his eyes grow unfocused. "When I return the Hand's pin, she wasn't even angry anymore and accepted my resignation and my proposition without objection. One thing I can see though was her disappointment and somehow it felt worse."
He looks up to her then with a sad smile. "Forgive me, I don't know why every single time in your presence, I poured my emotional turmoil at you."
Arya resisted the urge to return the smile. "I'll let it slide this one last time." Tyrion seems to see it nonetheless as his features soften. Though the Lannister had thrown Daenerys trust out of a window in favour of his brother, Arya thoughts perhaps the two still have a chance to rekindle that again with time.
The noises of the men working with wood, hammering and sawing them with dedication grow and reach them little by little. The young Stark turns to the source and starts walking ahead to see the busy soldiers with Tyrion a step behind her. There are multiple stations that had been set up. Some work on sawing and cutting the wood to certain measurements, which then the other station will pick up and assemble them into shapes. And then other men would be assembling those pieces into a larger piece of the giant weaponry. They had a complicated yet efficient system in place, utilising every minute and force into producing something that can destroy walls, ships and lives in a blink of an eye.
She wonders if there will be a time that humans would stop killing each other and go to war for every other reason. If there is a moment that a child born in this world that doesn't have to be killed or be a killer. As Arya walks further, she sees Yara's fleet anchored along the bay not far from the port and inevitably, her thought is brought back to Euron Greyjoy. The madman wasn't exactly as mad as she remembered him another life ago now that she really thinks about it. Rather than that, he was calculated and also a firm believer to change the world that they lived in.
A new world, remade; Euron once claimed. Does the world really need to be broken for it to be free? That a new God needed to be born from the charnel pits and the graves to replace the existing Gods so that the people would value the cost of one's life and finally behave?
"You're very good at that." Tyrion finally joins at her side.
"At what?" The chilly wind blows non-stop, making strands of her hair slaps her face violently. She tucks them behind her ears and sighs when it did nothing.
"Brooding. You always picked the best place." He joked.
The only worth of a response she gave him was a penetrating gaze which makes him uncomfortable and disengages immediately. Satisfied with his silence defeat, the young woman stares at the sky. It seems the weather has only worsened. The clouds, grey and heavy and are moving much closer to the city, courtesy of the powerful wind.
"Looks like a storm is coming."
Tyrion finds what Arya meant. "Not to worry. We'll raise tents and keep working. Wouldn't want to be late in the schedule."
*
Lightning lit the darkening skies in intense streaks, illuminating a brilliant pathway above the sky. Rain pours down in heavy and fat droplets leaving violent thudding against the roofs and cobbles of the buildings, streets and houses in Kings Landing. The wind is not any better as they howl through the crack of the city.
It was still early morning as Arya took refuge in her room, leaning against the rail of the balcony as she feels the cold icy rain pierced her outstretched hand. Despite it being morning, the quality of the brightness shifted. The harsh rain obliterate the crystal reflection of the sky and turn it into an orientated chaos of greyness.
The storm has been going on for three days now. Ever since the first downpour started—which was the day that she had visited Tyrion—the plans to strengthen the city walls had to be halted. As the Lannister suggested, they had raised tents to keep on working but the storm was prove too much for any of them to handle least the safety of the men is concerned.
Arya pulls her wet hand back with a harrowing depth inside her chest that she cannot decipher. The unforeseen weather changes and the limitation of everything else are certainly not helping her anxiousness either. With another sigh, she wipes her hand dry and turns to leave the confine of her room in search of something to do than staring out into nothingness again.
The pathways are busier with guards and servants alike, treading along to get to somewhere they need to be. Now that they can't go out as freely as before, the castle somehow felt packed with people. It made the young Stark suffocated and wonders if she should just retreats back to her chamber.
Her escape plan doesn't get far when someone calls out to her. Arya looks over her shoulder to find Missandei walking closer. She stops to greet the Naathi with a small smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Are you heading somewhere?" Missandei inquired, returning the smile.
"Actually, I'm in search of something to do before I lose my mind in boredom."
"Well, I believe today is your lucky day then, Lady Arya."
The young Stark raises a brow in question as Missandei offers nothing besides the growing light in her eyes. "Right. Care to explain further?" she finally asked with contained amusement.
The older woman answers nothing and instead motion for Arya to follow her. She did so without complaint even though there are still questions at the tip of her tongue. The prospect of not to be reminded about the heavy storm is a welcome notion at this moment. As they walk along familiar hallways, Arya is highly aware of where these paths will lead them to.
She tilts her head to Missandei. "Are you taking me to the Queen? What for?" she asked, maybe a bit too eagerly.
Truth be told, ever since that night in the training ground, Arya had missed the older woman terribly. Though, by her standard, she had been missing Daenerys since she can remember but that only meant that each time was somehow worse than before. Furthermore, since she had returned the cloak, she didn't have any reason left to come search for Daenerys and it seems that the dragon queen was too busy the last few days that the young Stark had a hard time tracking her whereabouts in the castle.
Missandei has that twinkling in her eyes again. "I'm sure you're going to find out soon."
"Did Daenerys not tell you why she wanted to see me?" She pushed further.
"She did."
Arya is barely able to contain herself from snapping at the vague answer. "Well, what is it? I would like to be prepared when I face the Queen." She reasoned.
A warm smile is thrown her way. "Not everything is warfare that needs planning, you know."
She didn't get to respond when Missandei already walks ahead. Flabbergasted, it takes Arya five whole seconds before she catches up with the older woman again. "I know that." She settles lamely.
Missandei still had a trace of a grin at the corner of her mouth and Arya decides to shut up and face ahead as to not embarrass herself further. The rest of the short journey left them with comfortable silence, passing working staffs and turning every corner. When they finally arrived, Aggo and Qorro exchange quick pleasantries with Missandei and open the door right after to let the two women enter.
Whatever unease that Arya felt earlier and the past days melt away the moment her eyes find Daenerys. The Targaryen queen was standing by a round table near the closed silk curtains on to a balcony with a view of the city. Arya felt her legs moving onto her own accord as she seeks the pool of violet and only stops when they return the favour.
"I wasn't aware you had another appointment today, Your Grace."
Someone said and reluctantly Arya tilts her head to the side only now noticing that Daenerys was not alone as Jorah stood across the table as well.
"I did," Daenerys answered focusing at the knight now. "Will you be free at noon?"
It was a clear dismissal and Jorah looks ready to argue but one look from Daenerys made him concede. With one last glance to the queen, he moves to leave. A quick nod is all Arya gets in acknowledgement as he walks past her.
When the door thud close, Missandei moves to the table and tries to tidy up the mess that the two had leave behind.
"There's no need for that, Missandei. I wish to use them later." Daenerys said as she reaches for the large piece of paper that seems to be a map of some sort from the Naathi's hand.
Missandei frowns slightly as she hands it over. "I thought the matter has been solved?"
"Not yet." Daenerys sighs softly. "The storm apparently had changed the landscape of the ground and it's not suitable for settlements to be built there."
Arya moves near to take a closer view of the mess on the table. There are a few other maps drawn outside the city and then some more. One of which has a 'Flea Bottom' engraved at the top and then a clear drawing of buildings and long narrow ditch on the ground.
Having been living at that part of the city for a short and torturous time, Arya knew that their drainage systems are probably the smallest of everyone's concern, least of all in a land rich of summer sun.
But, there is no sun now. Not for three days. And she finally put two and two together.
"I'm sure you'll find the solution soon, Your Grace." Missandei offers an encouraging smile. "Though, I think they are not in a hurry to leave the castle. I hear the children especially are enjoying their time."
That made the young Stark glances up to find Daenerys. Something close to surprise and admiration blooms within at the realization that the dragon queen had taken it upon herself to host the people that had lost their home temporarily. Even if the weather has made the surrounding chill and dark, Arya brightens and can only feel the warmth radiating through her core.
As if being called out, the violet gaze flickers to grey ones and the dragon queen instantly straightens and softens at the same time.
"Did you get your cloak back?" Arya finally blurts for the first time.
Daenerys features cross something of an amusement. "Yes, I did. Thank you for returning it." Arya only nods and melts further into Daenerys gaze as the older woman continues. "I have news from Grey Worm. His letter arrived this morning saying that the troops are another three days ride away from the capitol. It seems the storm had caught on to them as well and they'll continue their journey once the weather is kind enough for them to see the road."
At the side Missandei fiddles with the opened scrolls uncomfortably. The thought of the Commander of Unsullied no doubt is filling her mind. Though that weariness is back by the news, there is nothing that Arya can do but wait for the storm to ease before they can proceed with their plan again.
Remembering Daenerys predicament earlier, the young Stark reaches down to pull out a drawing of some parts of the city hidden beneath the pile of scrolls and maps. "If you wish to find higher ground, perhaps you can use the existing hills inside the city." She points towards the map of Visenya Hill where the Great Sept of Baelor once stood and the Hill of Rhaenys where the Dragonpit still is. "Once the storm subsides, it should be easy to start building on the hard ground rather than muddy ones."
Daenerys looks down to find those drawings with understanding. Those places should be suitable to build a temporary settlement to house the residents of Flea Bottom. And then, her men can proceed to work on improving the drainage and sewerage system down there. She exchanges a look with Missandei who clearly is impressed before settles onto the young woman again, disbelieved and astonished. "Do you always offer solution wherever you go, Stark?"
Arya knows it was a rhetorical question but she answered it anyway. "Not always. Just here." Just you. She continues silently. The gaze in front softens further as if she heard the unspoken words.
"Well, though I'm delighted that I may have finally found an answer to my dilemma, this is not the reason I invited you here."
Even if it's a waste of time to hope that one day Daenerys doesn't need to ever have a reason to want to see her, Arya did so anyway.
The dragon queen moves to leave the table and closer to where Arya is. "I wanted to give you armour of your own."
The young Stark blinks in surprise before getting a hold of herself again. "That's very kind but I don't need armour. I'm more efficient that way." Even from before, she only wore leather armour which had been tailored to be thicker and sturdier and not the metal kind since the plate was heavy and uncomfortable.
Daenerys looks away as if she wanted to roll her eyes but stops halfway and think better of it. "We're in a war. It's irresponsible to overestimate yourself. I can guarantee that you'll be more efficient if you're alive."
When Arya still looks unconvinced, Missandei joins from the side. "Even the dragons have their armours and I believe your skin is not as tough as theirs."
She glares at the Naathi but the older woman does not seem to be affected or as scared as before. Since when does that happen?
Seeing the slowly conflicted look upon the young girl, Daenerys decides quickly. "Great. Let's get your measurement."
The dragon queen doesn't wait as she retreats further to the right side of the room. Still unmoving, Missandei only offers an encouraging smile which Arya shot another half-hearted glare with before finally deciding that she is better off just going through with whatever this is. Her steps are hesitant as she follows Daenerys trail, leaving behind the Naathi who finally starts arranging the mess that has been left on the table again.
Arya expects to find another person—possibly the seamstress or the master armourer—as she steps inside a much smaller section of the room where large mirrors are placed vertically at the corner and beautiful dresses hanged along a wooden rail on the walls but instead no one was there save for the queen.
She hurries towards to stand face to face with Daenerys who had been waiting patiently near the standing mirrors and comes to a realization then. "Are you going to do this yourself?"
Determined violet gaze locks into curious ashen greys. "It's actually quite simple. I have Kevin to thank for as he teaches me how to properly measure one's size and you, of course."
Kevin is the master armourer that they recently met and the one in charge of building the dragons' armours. Knowing that the older woman took the time to seek the man again to do this correctly makes Arya soft. "You know you don't have to."
"I want to… You did it with my children so allow me to return the favour." Daenerys quirked her brow then. "I won't let this go until you let me do this, Stark."
And the dragon queen is known to be a woman of her words. Finally relented, Arya nods her consent and moves to stand closer. Daenerys lifts her chin in triumph and finally starts. There is a small table near them holding the tools that Arya remembered using for the dragons before. Daenerys takes the much smaller and shorter measurement stripe from among them and steps forward to begin.
For the smallest of moment, the young Stark thought that she would be kissed when the older woman's face comes close but then she feels the brush of Daenerys hands around her waist and her face tilted to the side. At the close proximity, she can't help but unashamedly breathe in. The soothing lavender heightens and it did a number on her bearings.
This is the second time that they had such a close encounter. The first was when they share a hug the first time they met. Daenerys somehow struggles to grab another end of the stripe from behind Arya as she was too disturbed to not wanting to be that close and cross whatever barrier they might have. It feels like an eternity has pass as the young woman seem to be stock still and Daenerys is still failing to seize the damn strip. Frustrated, she leans forward to do just that. It finally works but in doing so, their bodies end up flush together, closing whatever remaining distance they have. Their chest touches and Daenerys still has her arms tightly circling Arya's waist even though the stripe is both on her hands now.
They might have been at it for a long while. The dragon queen finds it hard to concentrate about anything else at the moment. The only wakeup call she needs apparently is the silence of the other woman, making her jolts into leaning away again. Seeking forgiveness is at the tip of her tongue but when Arya only looks back with such peaceful warmth, the words die instantly. There is no smile pulling on her lips but her expressive grey eyes seem to convey it nonetheless. Remembering the real purpose of this activity, Daenerys gathers herself in a matter of seconds and asked, "What's your favourite food?"
A smile finally graces Arya's lips right then. Her eyebrow quirk upwards in a teasing motion. "My favourite food?"
Daenerys doesn't back away. "Surely when you said I can ask you anything, you mean to extend that invitation outside the confine walls of the dungeon." She quipped.
The young Stark inclined her head. "Of course."
"Good. Because I have a lot to catch up." The dragon queen finally looks down to the measurement strip that is circling Arya's waist to take the numbers and then walks away to the table to write it down on paper.
"I have several," Arya said, eyes not leaving the older woman's movements. "Old nan's kidney pie; Jon and I used to bicker all the time for the last slice… My brother's carrot pie; When he first made it, it was so bad that I ended up sick for two days. But, much later he did it right and it became the best pie I've ever eaten in my whole life. It is possibly the best in the world. And lastly; a long and thin bread that I don't know the name of. It was sweet, buttery outside and soft inside. They sell them in a small inn, called Tascer's Inn just outside Rosby."
Daenerys walks near again. Somehow lighter in her steps, as she hears the young woman tell her story. "How about your favourite sport? Things you like to do to unwind?" she asked next.
The memories of another lifetime seem so close to Arya even if it's not. "Archery and gardening." Those are the only time that she was able to develop her interests.
"Gardening? Like crops?"
"Yes and flowers too."
The dragon queen stops and looks on with more interest now. "What kind of flowers?"
The excitement brings a sudden pang that Arya can't explain. It unnerves her how similar Daenerys once was when they talked about flowers another lifetime ago. With a forced smile, she answered. "Just the usual. Roses, peonies and orchids."
Being this close, Daenerys notices the subtle change almost immediately and decides not to pursue it further. Instead, she leans close again to take another measurement. There is no awkward pause this time as their body presses together and Daenerys is unaware just how much she lingers to feel the curves of the other woman's body.
"Have you ever heard of the Winter Rose?" Arya whispered to Daenerys ear.
The dragon queen finally pulls away to capture waiting grey eyes. "No, I'm afraid not."
"It's a beautiful rose with icy blue petals that can only be grown in the North. Winterfell has them in abundance." She explained naturally.
"That sounds fascinating. Perhaps someday you can show me."
Shame begins to fill her insides. The only time Arya should show her the winter rose, she realizes, shall be when the older woman truly knows what they mean. And she doubts that Daenerys will ever find out. Arya decides she doesn't want Daenerys to ever find out. The older woman doesn't deserve the burden of knowing how much Arya longed for her.
The sombre atmosphere is not lost on Daenerys and she decides she didn't like it, especially since it's affecting the person in front. "Is there any exciting places you get to travel when you finally escaped Kings Landing?" She asked lightly, hoping for the peaceful warmth to grace the girl again.
"I was taken to Harrenhal before I escaped the castle and find my way to The Twins next." She stops short and swallows the bitter taste in her mouth, unable to continue.
Daenerys is just finishing the measurement around Arya's chest when she notices the girl's haunted look. "And then what happened?" She pushed. Both curious and concern.
The grey eyes now grow unfocused as they stare at an invisible point. "The Red Wedding happened."
Somehow, the air around them seems to worsen. If it was borderline solemn before, now, it has become full-fledge depressing and it is rightly so since the Red Wedding is known for its inhumane monstrosity and brilliant politic.
"You were there when it happened?"
Arya doesn't have to answer for Daenerys to know that she was. Offering her condolences seems like a dismissal nor comforting at the moment so she offers nothing. Even though she had a strong urge to wrap her arms around the girl's frame again—without the need to take her measurement this time—she turns and walks away to the small table instead.
"I went to Braavos after that." Arya continues, gaze fixing back to violet ones. The crystal depth gives her the strength again and slowly, she gains herself back.
Daenerys seizes the chance. "Your dancing master's hometown."
The young Stark hums in content as she relives the thrill and excitement the first few days she steps foot in one of the Free City. "They have the best oysters in the world." She remarked which earned her a soft chuckle.
They are closer again. This time Daenerys reaches up to wrap her hold around Arya's neck. Their noses almost touch before Daenerys leans away at the last minute. Neither seems to be aware that their gaze has marked the other.
"There you go again, claiming to know the best food in the world. Sausages, pies, and now oysters." Daenerys commented.
Arya only smiles smugly and watch the older woman's retreating form. Telling her about Braavos seems incomplete if she doesn't mention about the House of Black and White and Arya decides that Daenerys deserves to know who she once was.
"You should know something."
The dragon queen tilts her head up, stopping from writing at the sudden serious change of tone.
"Whilst I was there, I was training to be an assassin and I got accepted into the Faceless organization."
Daenerys blinks in surprise, not expecting any of that to come out at all. But, the girl in front offers nothing else to correct herself. "You're a Faceless Man?" She finally asked which Arya nods in confirmation. She stares at the girl, incredulous. It makes sense, she guessed. Arya has always managed to surprise her with her many talents and even more curious actions. Is it not natural that assassin should learn as many things as possible? Like charming your way into one's life, for example. Into one's mind. That would explain a lot.
"But, I left." Arya continued when Daenerys takes too long to respond.
Violet eyes flicker into focus again. "How? They just let you leave?" She asked, unconvinced.
"By killing the underling that they send to assassinate me. I exchanged her face for my freedom and they agreed."
"I see." Silence accompanies the surroundings after that. Even the heavy downpour outside sounded far away for a long while now. Daenerys has looked away to busy herself and focus on her writing even if her mind is anything but. She had hoped that by doing this session, she can better understand the person who had appeared in her life so unexpectedly. It's true that she needed answers but now, she was left with more questions about the enigma of the youngest daughter of House Stark. And Daenerys doesn't know if she wants to probe any further than this.
The girl was once an assassin. From the notorious Faceless Man nonetheless. This changes everything. How can she trust anything that has happened so far isn't some kind of a grand plan that the guild of assassin or anyone for that matter is involved in. She should've not let the young woman close.
"I'll leave." Arya finally speaks up, jolting the older woman into awareness again. The conflicted look is not lost on Arya and she doesn't blame Daenerys for it. Perhaps, this is better. Daenerys doesn't need to be her friend for Arya to protect her. She doesn't need to know that Arya would trade her own life if needs be. "I appreciate the gesture, Your Grace, but as you now know, I don't need any armour. I can take care of myself quite well." She tried for levity at the end though it fell flat.
When Daenerys offers nothing but the still confusion and confliction look across her features, Arya inclines her head to dismiss herself. Without another glance, she left the small room and comes upon Missandei who is seated by the now cleared table, minding her own business. The Naathi looks up at her entrance and Arya is quick to not linger as she bids goodbye before leaving the Targaryen Queen's chamber altogether.
Little did Arya know that Daenerys only need to watch the fallen expression and the abrupt leave before she decides that none of what's just been told actually matter. The young Stark is going to get her armour made and worn when the time comes, even if she had to be forced upon them. A certain silver-haired woman will make sure of it.
*
Eventually, the storm did subside. Though the downpour still goes on, they were not as heavy and violent as their first appearance. With that, life around the city has move on despite the limitation the raining season brings. The soldiers at least can continue working as per plan to protect Kings Landing. Tents have been raised across the city acting as multiple stations and men have been working in shifts to make up the time they had lost.
It was much later that night when Arya rouse from her sleep. She was beyond exhausted when she hit the mattress, having personally assisting and monitoring the working station at Iron Gate earlier in the day. But as her eyes blink open at this moment, all she can feel is the trickling sweat down her forehead and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
Slowly, she sits up. Outside is still dark and chill making her skin prickles in small goosebumps even though she's in her room. Absentmindedly, she puts on her boots and dons her cloak and Needle next. Something just doesn't feel right.
The hallways are silent save for the flickering flames of torches mounted on the walls. Her feet brought her out of Maegor's Holdfast and to White Sword Tower. A slender building located on the side of the bay of the Blackwater.
Now that she's finally outside, the air seems colder and the night darker. Usually on most nights, even without torches, the lower courtyard can be seen from up above the tower but apparently not tonight. She tightens her cloak around herself and looks ahead to the dark horizon of the bay from the open pathway. There are no stars or the moon from up the sky either.
"We should stop meeting like this."
A familiar voice breaks her silent musings. Arya turns to find Daenerys already standing close along the path. Both Aggo and Qorro are faithfully by her sides. The young Stark hasn't seen the older woman ever since she rushed out of their little session two days ago. And she has been successfully avoiding her ever since, until right now.
"Can't sleep?" Daenerys asked when there is still no response from the girl.
Arya nods slightly, putting her mask in place. The dragon queen moves to stand closer, leaving the two guards behind.
"How was the progress at Iron Gate today?"
Daenerys profile is all Arya can see as the older woman looks ahead to the dark night. Though it shouldn't come as a surprise for Daenerys to know everyone who was working on the city walls, Arya can't help but wonder if she actually cares or was just making small talk.
She decides to look ahead the horizon as well and finally answered. "They just started but now that the rain has stopped, it'll be easier and faster to work on the walls."
"That's great." A pause and then. "We've started building temporary settlements on top of Visenya's Hill as you suggested."
That news has reached the Stark's ears a day ago, having heard it from the outspoken folks from Flea Bottom themselves.
"And your armour will be ready soon. I'll send it to your room once it is." Missandei had helped to complete the remaining minor measurements that Daenerys didn't manage to get before she finally sends them anyway.
Arya turns her head to the side. "You proceed in having it made?"
Daenerys matches her gaze, preparing for the rebuttal. "I did. I have my dragons and you will have your armour."
A slight frown slowly graces her feature. "As I said before, Your Grace, I don't need it. You should not trouble yourself on my behalf. I'll ride to the armourer's shop on first light and ask Kevin to stop making it."
"Nothing has changed, Stark." Daenerys declares, not backing down. "You need protection and I'm giving it to you."
Arya wanted to pull her own hair out in frustration at the older woman's persistence. But she opts to ask instead. "Why do you insist on giving me this armour?"
Daenerys quirked her brow. "Why do you insist on rejecting my gift?"
Despite the dark night, the pool of violet in front still shines bright and Arya knows a lost cause when she sees one so she can only stares back, exasperated and equally mesmerized.
"Nothing has changed," Daenerys repeats softly this time, remembering the stoicism that the young woman wore when they talked about the Faceless Man and her affliction with it. It's quite similar to this very moment. "Your past is in the past and I thank you for telling me all of it. When I said I trust you, I mean that."
"It's rather still early to make up your mind, is it not? I might just prove you wrong."
"Somehow, I doubt it." With all that Arya has done; helping her takes Kings Landing, risking her life just to protect the city and offering every possible way to make everyone's life easier, Daenerys has a hard time to believe the girl had an ulterior motive much less to assassinate her. The only thing Arya's killing her with, is kindness.
The grey eyes soften and slowly her mask falls apart and that familiar warmth is in place again. "You're such a stubborn woman."
The comment lacks the bite and Daenerys gives the girl a look. "It takes one to know one."
Arya can't help but chuckle softly at that as Daenerys pulls up a smile at the welcoming sound. The invisible weight of the tension from the past days lifted from Arya's shoulders with the absorbing sight of the other woman. Nothing else matters, she decides as long as she can bask the scene in front forever.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Daenerys asked.
"Yes." How can she not? She remembered the first time finding those enthralling violet depths in the gloomy corner of her cell. She remembered the many papers she had destroyed trying to write that first letter for Jon to send to. And later when they finally meet, how much of a nervous wreck she was. And how can she forget when she finally able to hold Daenerys Targaryen that existed in all of the lifetimes in her arms.
"Why did you hug me back then?"
The dragon queen's piercing stare did nothing to ease her nerves. She can feel her face warming up at such direct inquiry. Arya swallowed thickly. "Forgive me. It must have been uncomfortable for you. Especially since I was—"
"No." Daenerys effectively cuts in. "It wasn't uncomfortable."
Her face is definitely red now if it wasn't before.
"But you were crying at that time." Daenerys probes gently, fully aware of the girl's awkwardness and shyness. It was something that she had never seen before. Youthful and bare, for once making the young woman looks her age. Daenerys wishes she could see more of Arya like this.
"I was overwhelmed." The young Stark finally settled.
"By what?"
You. Arya wanted to answer. By all of you.
But she can't. Not without telling the older woman about her other past lives and how Arya had found her way back to where her heart belongs. No, Daenerys doesn't need to know about the details at all.
The dragon queen is still staring, waiting for an answer that Arya can never give. And she tries to think of another possible response to the question. But, her attention got caught by something else at the peripheral. She tilts towards the horizon where the distant fluttering of sound reaches her ears. It sounded like something is flapping and is coming closer.
"Stark?" Daenerys calls but the other woman has gone eerily quiet and is still looking over the darkness.
"Where did this fog come from?" Arya asked more to herself than anything.
Nevertheless, Daenerys heard her loud and clear. Only then did she notice the white smoke slowly making its way to their surroundings. And when she peers over the railing, the darkness around them has somehow grown thicker and the air colder. She was shocked out of her stupor when a sudden pull and a laud caw break the silence. The next thing she realized, Arya's back is press against her frame as her arm stretches in protection from something in front of them. Her heart is racing as she finds the source of the piercing noise comes from a black bird, flapping around in front of them in frenzy. Her other guards are already flanking her side respectively, alarmed.
"It's just a bird, Stark." Daenerys tries.
Arya ignores the comment because it's not just a bird but a raven. Its eyes milky white as they locked on grey ones and it's still flying around and letting out that shrieking sound. She grips the pommel of her sword tightly, waiting for the need to use it. However, the bird did nothing else than circling in front of them. She can only frown at the strange act.
Perhaps Bran is trying to mess with her somehow. Another shriek jolts her slightly as if the raven knew what she was thinking and disagreed. From where Arya is, she can't see any letter attached to its legs. So it must be something that Bran couldn't write to her beforehand. Perhaps a warning then? It had come from the pit of the darkness of the Blackwater Bay and her gaze flickers toward the horizon and instantly she froze.
Could it be— No, there's no way that—
Another ear-piercing noise comes out from the black bird rendering her thoughts short. It then lands on the railing apparently having calm down. But Arya doesn't share the sentiment because her uneasiness from the time she was awakened earlier has only multiplied tenfold. The raven gives one last caw before it decides to fly away apparently satisfied its message has been received.
Arya would have laughed at the absurdity of the possibility that she can read raven's mind now, but she knows now is not the time or place. She needs to make sure.
"Stark," Daenerys calls louder this time.
"Where's your children?" The young woman turns to face the Mother of dragon.
"I haven't seen them since the storm begin. They hated the rain." Daenerys gives a look. "What's this about, Stark?"
"I need to get down there. You should return to your room."
"Would you care to explain to me first what just happened and why do you need to do that?"
Her fingers fidgets around the pommel of her sword. "Something doesn't feel right. The fog and the darkness. It's getting hard to see out in the bay."
Violet eyes glance towards the direction and Arya is right, she can't see anything other than the thickening fog. "Yara's fleet is out there guarding the entryway." She tries to reason.
"I'll search the area just in case."
"You can take Aggo with you."
"No. They are your guards." Arya dismissed the offer but Daenerys looks about ready to argue and she really doesn't have any more time to waste. "Fine, I will."
Pleased, Daenerys turns to the man in question, muttering some kind of order. When she's done, she finds the tense young woman. "I'll be in my room."
Arya nods. "I'll find you when we finished."
If anyone notice that the two linger for a moment, neither would say anything. Arya savours Daenerys presence until the edge of her cloak disappears behind the castle wall.
Once alone, she faced Aggo. "I need you to go to the Tower of Hand and get Jorah."
He stares wide-eyed in surprise. "You know our words." He said, almost accusing.
"I know a little." She lied. She had learnt the language another lifetime ago, in preparation for meeting the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.
His brown eyes still held certain mistrust. "Khaleesi tells me I cannot leave you."
"I will not be alone. I need more men and Jorah can get them. You can go back to the Khaleesi after. She needs protection more than me."
Aggo seems to agree on that last bit and Arya couldn't be more satisfied that they have at least one thing in common. "I'll wait for you at the gate." She tacks on.
Slowly he steps closer until they are only an inch apart. "I do not take orders from you, wolf girl. But, I will get you Jorah so that he can watch you instead." The Dothraki gives her a menacing look. If she's not so trouble by an incoming threat right now, she would have returned the favour. "And you better be at that gate." He said one last time and leaves to find the current Hand of the Queen.
Arya wastes no more time and runs the other way to collect as many guards as she can.
*
"Lady Stark."
Jorah calls out as he jogs towards her. Aggo falling in step behind him.
When the two finally reached the young woman, their attention flicker to the dozen of men that are in line behind her. Arya had managed to gather as many lingering soldiers that are on duty as possible given the short time that she had. Though she wanted to take these men outside to scour the port at once, these Southern men wouldn't have listened to a northern woman, despite her status. That is why she needs to convince Jorah instead.
"There is a high probability that the enemies are nearing us at this very moment. The fog has been making it difficult to see from the tower. We should search the area and warn Yara's fleet just in case." She said, straight at it.
"How do you know this? You had visions again?" He asked, still unconvinced.
"No. I got it from a raven."
Luckily for her, Jorah seems to take the statement in a literal sense. So, Arya doesn't have to explain that the raven doesn't actually carry a letter. He turns to Aggo at his side and sends him away back to Daenerys. The Dothraki throws her a last glance before he finally leaves.
"How long before they arrive?" Jorah asked, grim.
"I don't know. It could be a false alarm." She said, wanting so badly for her to be wrong in this.
"It could not." He counters absentmindedly. "We need to prepare the men." His eyes busy as he searches for the existing soldiers behind her.
"I need them to scour the area," Arya said quickly.
His eyes find hers again, suddenly alert. "You shouldn't be here, my lady. I'll take care of it."
"Listen, Ser. I know you mean well, but I'm only going to tell you this, once. I'm perfectly able to defend myself and I'm not going anywhere but outside to warn the fleet. You can prepare the men and ready the walls."
The silence stretches for a moment longer than Arya would have liked. Her shoulders straight and her chin up in persistence as he continues to stare, conflicted. But, the fight eventually leaves him and he walks pass to stand in front of the waiting men.
"You all know the Lady Stark." He said to the dozen men standing in attention. As the many eyes find her, Arya moves to stand beside the Hand. "She will guide you to scour outside the banks. Follow her lead."
The soldiers offer nothing but understanding in their features. The young Stark grabs one of the torches from the wall and strides towards the closed gate. As Jorah orders for the gate to open, the cold wind greets them. Her apparel provides no comfort to withstand the sudden onslaught and she tries not to shiver as she heads below the city with men marching behind her back.