The Butterfly Effect

by evil.otter

She thought she was going to feel peace after finishing off her list, but she was far from it. Her family was still gone and she was alone. So, the Gods let Arya Stark travels back in time to save her family and make her rewrite the past. While doing so, she creates the butterfly effect and she soon realised that maybe things were written like it was for a reason.

40. Anchor

In which Arya seeks familiar faces, get answers from Bran, retaliates but drowns in a pool of violet instead.

*Year 304 AC (After Conquest) – Present Day*

Darkness fast becomes their surrounding and accompanies the rest of their journey. The light from the burning city has long gone now and in its stead, the stars and moonlight shine down. It did little to provide guidance against the night, so Arya relies purely on her instinct and memory she last treads the road outside Iron Gate as she guides their transportation into Rosby town.

Behind her, Daenerys hasn't spoken or move ever since they left Kings Landing aside from her sway due to rough bumps of the galloping horse. The only indication the dragon queen was presence is the body pressing against Arya's back and the arms encircling her waist. It took every will of her strength to stay upright and focus. The warmth from the contact almost brought a lull to Arya but she quickly snaps her eyes wide and straightens when a silhouette of the entrance of Rosby comes into view.

Pulling the horse to a stop, Arya looks over her shoulder. "We have to go on foot from here." The arms encircling her waist breaks apart and she bites the inside of her cheek at the sudden blinding pain. Pushing past the throbbing at her side, she slides down.

Silently, Daenerys did the same.

Arya walks ahead, giving one last pet to the pale horse, thankful for his appearance despite everything that happened. With a slap to his rear, the horse continues galloping into the town without any riders.

"We might be followed," Arya explained once the two are alone. "Hopefully they will follow the horse's track."

Daenerys offers nothing in return. Her violet eyes pale in the darkness and glazed over as if she's still trapped in that burning city they had long escaped. Arya closes in, wanting to blanket the older woman against the horror of everything and swept the burden of this world from her but she opts to take Daenerys hand instead.

The violet orbs flicker down to their joining hand but made no move to untangle the hold. Carefully, Arya intertwines her fingers. A resolute spark ignites inside. She waits for Daenerys to look at her again before speaking, determined.

"I'm going to take you somewhere safe."

Swallowing the stinging and prickling of her whole body, Arya leads them towards the side road. As they ducks and manoeuvre their way inside the forest, mindful of the protruding roots and branches, Arya tightens her hold hoping that Daenerys won't be lost among the darkness.

*

Time is moving under the canopy of trees and so do the two women. Arya doesn't know how long it has been since they treaded this unknown road. The cold of the night shockingly sends a pleasant wave throughout her body. The once painful and agonizing sensation is now replaced with a numbness that made her eyes droopy and her legs heavy. She doesn't know how much longer she can continue this journey.

But Daenerys hold on her is still there. Taut and firm. Almost to the point of soreness as she gives another squeeze right then. Arya doesn't mind it at all, since it gave her the surge of energy to move forward. She scans their surrounding for the many times that night to search familiar marks. Anything at all to indicate that they are going the right way.

There is a large tree up ahead and Arya leads them on, noticing the strange spiral of the tree sap that she once saw when she hunted the wild boar a while ago. Relief washes over.

They're close.

Her steps quicken, eager to get out of this dark forest that provides little comfort. It's a miracle that no predators are attracted to the noise of their clumsy strides. She decides to not push their luck and starts to break in a small run. Daenerys follows without protest as she keeps pace beside her.

They're really close now.

And sure enough, the tall trees and wild bushes cleared little by little before they finally emerge at the entrance of a small road. There is no marking or whatsoever but Arya knows just beyond it, lay a small village.

The plain and small houses at the sides almost drew a grateful scream from her throat. But, she pushes on until at the end of the street where the familiar hut is situated. She climbs the steps and knocks the door.

There is a shuffling of noise from inside until it quiets and then nothing. Arya waits with bated breath. The silence stretches uncomfortably and Daenerys' hold tightens. Arya squeezes in return and the door finally opens.

"Tyler." She breathes in relief.

The young man's eyes are wide as he takes the sight before him. Arya guesses she might have looked terrible with all the cut and bruises.

"Arya?" Tyler questioned in a whispered voice, still in obvious shock.

Smiling, she asked, "Do you perhaps have any bed to spare?"

He blinks a few times before realizing another presence behind her. Daenerys probably doesn't look any better since they just escaped from literal hell on earth. "Seven hells, Arya," Tyler said as if he read her mind. He gestures them in and promptly shut the door and locks it. "What happened?"

"Arya!" someone interrupts before Arya can answer. Emilya comes running from where she was seated and plants herself around her leg.

"Hi, Emilya." The young Stark bends and awkwardly wraps her arm around the little girl's shoulders with her injured hand. Her other good hand still accommodating the dragon queen.

"Arya." Devron stands not far. A frown on his face as he looks her over and then at Daenerys. "Why are you covered in blood?" he asked worriedly.

Emilya pulls away. "Are you hurt…again?" she chided.

Arya can't help but smile. "It's a long story." She finds Tyler then. "Can I talk to you alone?"

Tyler nods and moves further from his siblings and Arya turns to Daenerys. "I'll be right back." She squeezes her hold in assurance before releasing, already missing the contact.

"So?" The young man inquired once they're safe outside hearing range of the others.

Arya doesn't know where to begin. Her jaw clenches to stifle the pain and soreness that is starting to creep all over again now that the adrenaline has gone. Gods, she wants to lie down and sleep for an eternity. But, she finds Tyler instead. "I'm sorry for the sudden intrusion but we need a place to stay for the night." She tries.

Tyler's emerald eyes shine with unspoken impatience.

"We'll be gone in the morn. I'll double your pay."

He seems offended by that. "How about you start with who hurt you? And who that woman is?"

Grey orbs flicker to find Daenerys across the room. Emilya and Devron are tending to her now. Offering a cup of water and chattering something—well, Emilya talks, Daenerys and Devron listen—as the three find a bench to sit. The older woman's clothes have a strange pattern of dried blood from her left sleeve down to her middle. Arya frowns, recalling if Daenerys was hurt earlier but found nothing. And then she looks down to her own bloodied shirt, realising that it was her blood from the cut at her side that had caused it. Instantly, she relaxes.

"Does this have anything to do with that strange sound we heard earlier?" Tyler asked again.

"You heard the horn?"

"It's a horn?" He seems to shudder at that. "Yes, we all heard it. Emilya wakes up crying, asking if the monsters had ripped open the sky to eat us all." he forces a chuckle at the silliness.

"In a way," Arya said, small.

His mouth set in a line as silence descends. Telling Tyler who Daenerys really is might not only pose a danger to the dragon queen but also to the Tascer siblings and Arya doesn't need any more innocent lives tainting her conscience.

"What do you mean?"

Discomfort shoots through at her side and on instinct, Arya grimaces and cradles her side. "We were attacked by the enemies. Kings Landing is burnt to the ground and we have nowhere else to go. It's a warzone out there in the city or what's left of it… We just need a place to stay for the night and will be gone at first light." When Tyler offers nothing, still dumbstruck and processing the information, she continues. "The offer still stands. Money will not be a problem." She tacks on.

Tyler seems to snap out of his thoughts then. He throws her a look that she can't quite decipher before finally sighing, defeated. "Come on then. Let's find you a room before you fainted and I'll have to carry you."

The tension in her muscles finally eases.

*

They were guided to a separate room next to each other. As Arya left Daenerys into the good hands of Emilya and Devron, she lets herself be guided to hers by Tyler.

"I should change our lodgings to a treatment centre with all the injuries I treated you with," Tyler commented.

Arya is seated by the bed, lifting her bloodied shirt to reveal a nasty laceration that Euron's mute managed to inflict at her side. Luckily, it wasn't that deep or fatal so Tyler only need to sew them shut.

"Perhaps you should just combine the two." She offered.

He glares at her and shakes his head before looking down again. "You're not a really good assassin are you, if you get hurt badly like this?"

"You should've seen the other guys."

Tyler wipes the blood dry before continuing the stitches. "I'm sorry I don't have the milk of poppy or anything else to ease the pain."

"That's alright. I'm used to it." More than anything, all Arya really feels right now is just pure exhaustion. She wants to get this over with and sleep. She settles to close her eyes instead.

"What happened to your hand?" Tyler's voice cut through, worried and fearful.

She opens her heavy lids to find her side is already neatly bandaged with no sign of bloodied gash. Contradictorily, her hand is a mess. Fingers at odd angles, purpling, dirtied and are starting to swell. "It's broken."

"And here I thought that's what your normal hand looks like."

Grey eyes roll in irritation. Tyler throws her another frustrated glare but she doesn't see it, her eyes already closed drowsily. With a soft sigh, he reaches for the wet cloth by the tray on the bed and wipes her broken fingers clean one by one. Arya tries not to flinch at the contact even if it was careful and slow. When he's done, he lingers seemingly doesn't know what to do next.

"Just wrap it..." She helps. "It's better if you have sticks or splints to wrap them around, but if you don't you can just wrap it as such."

He gets out of the room and returns moments later with small sticks in his hand. "Will these do?" he asked.

Arya nods tiredly as he takes back his seat and gets to work.

"How do you know so much about treating injuries? Planning to become a Maester someday?"

She chuckles lightly. "I read a lot. Besides, it's quite the same if you're treating a broken arm or leg."

As Tyler wraps a bandage around her middle finger and the wooden stick, his voice cuts again. "Is your lady friend anyone important?" Curious emerald eyes find calculating grey ones and continue. "I heard of a foreign queen that rides dragon conquering Kings Landing a while back. People said she has silver hair, pale smooth skin and she is as beautiful as her fire-breathing children are terrifying. That's her in the next room, is she not?"

Tyler raises his eyebrow apparently waiting to be answered. But, Arya's mind is on high alert as she tries to weigh her options whether the young man in front is a threat. Her fist gathered tightly until her nails dig through the skin.

"Do you remember when you beat those merchants to a bloody pulp?" he suddenly asked.

Arya frowns at the change. "What about it?"

"Remember what I said when you came back to us?" He stops wrapping the bandages and have his full attention to her now. "Let me say it again… I need you to guarantee that whatever you do, you won't hurt Devron and Emilya. I don't care who she is or who you're running away from but promise me that my family is safe from harm."

Arya's grip loosens as guilt washes over instead. "I made sure our tracks are covered so you don't need to worry… No one knows we're here. Emilya and Devron will be safe. I swear it with my life."

Tyler holds his gaze for a moment longer and Arya doesn't relent, showing that she meant what she said.

"Alright." He finally said, satisfied and gets back to bandaging her broken fingers.

Her body sags further as she lets her muscles ease completely and closes her eyes for the second time that night. Instead of peace, visions of the wreckage and people that she left behind seeps through the darkness. She clenches her jaw until her teeth hurt.

"Euron Greyjoy stepped on it." She said, still closing her eyes. Tyler pauses for a moment before continuing tending her last broken finger. "He had a magical horn that can bind dragons to his will. He acquired one, Viserion… I wasn't— I tried stopping him but…" She opens her eyes to find her broken fingers are now completely wrapped. The bandage stopping at the end of her wrist. She pulls it to rest on her lap.

The silence is filled with tension as neither moved. Arya couldn't look up, afraid of what she might find.

"We've been through war before… five Kings have torn this country apart to achieve their personal gain yet we're still here. We'll get through it. We always did." Tyler said, trying to convince her or perhaps himself.

"They don't have dragons at their disposal… Euron already made use of one in the city and he's not interested in wearing a crown."

Another tense silence floods inside the room. Arya bites the inside of her cheek and braced herself to look up. Tyler's dark green orbs glazed with unspoken restlessness at what she just uncovered. Her remorse only doubles at the broken sight. She should have stopped all of this from happening. She knew what was going to happen yet she was useless. She lets those people in the city burn and ran off to save herself. And now, the whole country will be in a similar fate sooner or later.

Her eyes prickle. Before she can apologize to Tyler for sealing humanity's doom, the door creaks open and Devron walks in.

"I brought you some clean clothes and washbasin for you to get clean." The young boy declared unaware of the tension. He placed the stuff at the small table and turns to find Arya. "I got your sword too. Dany asked to return it."

She blinks at that. "Dany?"

"Yes, Dany…Your friend that you came with?" he looks at her funny.

"Oh, right…Dany, yes. Of course." Arya recovers slowly.

"What did you give her?" Devron asked Tyler, throwing an accusatory glare.

Tyler rolls his eyes and chose not to answer as he tidies up the mess on the bed instead. Devron finds her again. "How are you? Do you want something to eat? I can cook something."

Warmth spreads her inside. "Thank you Devron but, I'm fine… How's Dany?"

"She's alright. Nothing as bad as you. I gave her a change of clothes since her dress had burning holes. Emilya and I left her after so she can sleep."

"That's good."

Tyler stands up then, carrying the tray of bloodied rags and a murky bowl of water on it. "Alright, little brother, stop pestering her. Arya doesn't want to listen to your annoying voice any more than necessary." He kicks his brother out of the room since his hands are full. Devron made one last remark about cooking breakfast for her before he reluctantly disappears out the door. "We'll leave you to rest," Tyler said one last time.

"Tyler," she called and he pauses. "Thank you."

He gives her a genuine smile. There is no trace of uneasiness in his eyes from before. With one last bid, the door click shut offering a comfortable silence. Arya glances down to her dirty clothes and grimaced. Her skin feels even grosser, caked with dried blood and grime acting as a second skin.

She could get clean and change to a new set of clothes. All she needs are within arm's reach after all. Arya crashes on the bed instead.

XxxxX

*Unknown*

"Hello, Arya."

Her eyes open involuntarily. Calm wind breezes her face in a soothing manner, clearing her hair away and slowly, she can make out her surroundings. She's standing in vast greenery with perfect blue sky and in the middle of it, a familiar large weirwood tree looms tall and even more familiar man standing in front of it.

Her heart rate increased. "Bran."

Bran steps forward and Arya flinched back. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He stops and chooses to remain where he is. "I know you hated me going inside your head but this is important. I'm sure you have questions about what you should do next, so here I am."

The incessant wind did nothing to ease her nerves that are slowly smouldering beneath her skin as she studies her brother, the proclaimed three-eyed raven.

Arya looks away and barks a laugh, incredulous at what he just said and at the situation they're in. There's nothing amusing at all as the memories of her escapade with Daenerys comes at the forefront of her mind, of the carnage that she barely protects Daenerys from and the wails of the lost souls she ignored. Yet, she can't stop laughing until it becomes painful and she can't breathe.

"Arya," Bran called, carefully placing a hand to her hunched form.

She slaps his hand away and straightens, moving away from him. "You…you lied to me." Her chest still feels tight as she pants for air. "You told me to warn Daenerys before Euron gets to her, and I did that. I did what you asked of me but it did nothing."

"It needs to happen." He said simply, unremorseful.

She bristles. "It needs to happen? Do you hear yourself? Millions of innocent lives need to die? You told me we can save Westeros if I listen to you and I listened!"

"Kings Landing is not all of Westeros." He starts, unaffected by the rising voice. "People need to know the threat that Euron possessed before they can band together and defeat him. The two of us alone are not enough to defeat him and his army, all the more now that he has Viserion."

Arya is left speechless.

"You have to bring Daenerys to Winterfell. She'll be safe there. My ravens will guide you through a safe passage. Thanks to Tyrion, her army of Unsullied and Dothraki are still stuck in the Westerland near Hornvale. We'll need all the men we can get, I'm sure you understand that. Jon has sent out letters to the other Houses. They'll rally their men and the common people to Winterfell as well."

"You knew, didn't you?" She said breathlessly. Her hands at her sides tremble. "You knew what would happen and you let it happen anyway."

Bran did nothing to contradict it. "I wish I can save everyone but I can't. It needed to happen."

There it is again, that sentence that made Arya shakes with pure rage. His blue eyes don't even waver as he said it. "You knew Euron's coming and you let him binds Viserion anyway. You let him burn all those people alive."

"I warn you beforehand. I got you and Daenerys out."

A short, sharp laugh escapes her as she remembered the raven and the horse. "It must be quite a sight, huh? Did you get off watching people burn and dying from the sky?" She snarls and takes a step closer. "You could've warned me before Euron gets to Kings Landing, about his passage, his vessels, and we could've stopped him. You could've warned me about Tyrion's plan that cost half of the queen's army and we could've protected the city better!"

"I have to make a choice and I did… You understand the burden of a choice, don't you, when you choose to save Daenerys over Missandei."

Arya doesn't even realize she had closed in the remaining distance. The next thing, Bran vanished into thin air and she stumbles in his place instead, fists still vibrating with an unreleased load.

"There's no right or wrong, Arya." She turns violently to find Bran now at a safe distance. Their place switched. "I'm not mocking you… Missandei is a kind and intelligent woman, you simply had to—"

"Shut up!" her eyes gloss over and she clenched her jaw painfully. "I don't need your pity nor do I need to hear you compensating my action. All I know is that I don't have to even make that terrible choice if you had just told me all those things that'd happen! I went through hell and back because of you!"

Bran had the gall to look hurt by that. Arya only bristles further. "I'm done being your pawn. I'm done being a piece in your sick and twisted game playing God. In fact, now I realize just how familiar this all is. You and Euron are really not that fucking different."

The wind breezing pass suddenly grow cold making her shiver and Bran's gaze was the coldest among everything else. "Do you think I take joy in doing this?" He asked. His voice is calm despite the ice in his eyes. "You have no inclination what this will cost... You had lived through two additional lives before but I have gone through thousands. They never stop being easy. I tried and I failed and I tried again. The consequences are not simply black and white. The world is certainly not."

"And that makes you qualify to choose for us?"

"I didn't ask to be the three-eyed raven."

Arya remembered the boy that skillfully climbed the towers, the trees. The boy that needed more training to be a better marksman. The boy that she chased around the castle and fought in the mud. But even if he stood in front of her now, that Bran was long gone.

Her insides twisted painfully. "I'm done listening to you." Bran simply stared in silence. Though his gaze has softened considerably, he offered nothing else. Her eyes and chest burn. "Get out, Bran."

He did.

XxxxX

*Year 304 AC (After Conquest) – Present Day*

Arya felt the tears escaping first as she comes into. She was in bed, face-up, secured in a warm blanket. Slowly, her vision clears, accommodating the darkness inside the room. Her side throbs and her fingers itch painfully.

Everything happened, she realised. None of it was a dream or a nightmare.

She failed to stop Euron. She failed to save all those people from dying in the city. Derwin's dead because of her. Viserion became a slave because she was too slow to protect him. And Missandei—her friend, died because of a selfish need.

And Bran—

A shaky sigh escapes her uninvited, not ready to delve further into that.

When Arya turns her head, she's surprised to find she's not alone. She blinks the tears away and Daenerys comes into view. The older woman has taken the seat Tyler used earlier by the bed, staring at an invisible point at the middle of the occupied bed, unaware of anything else. Arya can't see the violet in those eyes because of the darkness but she doesn't need to see them under the light to know that they are haunted.

Wiping her tears dry, the young Stark gingerly sits up. A groan escapes as her stitches stretch due to the sudden movement.

That seems to jolt Daenerys into action as she instantly snaps whatever trance she was in and moves to help prop a pillow against Arya's back for her to sit onto.

They fall into silence as Arya waits for the dragon queen to explain why she was here and not in her own room, resting. But, Daenerys gaze lingers with a small frown. Impatience, she finally asked, "Are you alright?" Eyes busy to find any discomfort. Despite the loose set of clothes Daenerys is wearing nothing else seems to be amiss.

"Why are you asking me that?" The violet gaze slowly finds waiting grey ones. They seem to harden as seconds go by.

Arya blinks, confused. "I was just—"

"You got stabbed. Your hand's broken. Your arm's cut. You had bruises around your neck. You bleed all over me. You almost die and you asked me if I'm alright?" Her breathing is fast as she finished and Arya's inside ache further.

"Daenerys…"

Closing her eyes, the dragon queen takes a moment to control her breathing. "You got hurt more than I did. Why do you only worry about me?" She asked softly.

Arya resists the urge to pull and wrap her arms around the silver-haired queen just so she can absorb whatever heartache Daenerys is feeling right now.

"You don't owe me anything." Daenerys continues, resigned.

There is so much weight that Arya wanted to unwrap to the girl in front. So much of herself that she wants to bare. On how much Daenerys really mean to her. How important she is. How the only thing that kept Arya going through her darkest of time in all of her lives from before and even now is always and will be Daenerys until the end of time. But, this isn't about her. Daenerys is hurting and she needs someone to heal those aches away.

"I'm sorry about Missandei," Arya said, quietly. "I'm sorry about Viserion… I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

Through the darkness inside the room, Arya can see the glint of the moisture that trail down Daenerys cheek. But, the older woman quickly brushes it away and rid of the evidence.

"I can't sleep. So, I came here… I hope you don't mind." Daenerys provided after a while.

"It's fine… I can't sleep too." The blanket tugged open in invitation. "It's more comfortable here if you'd care to join me."

A moment passes as Arya waits for Daenerys to decide. She offers a small smile and that seems to be the defining act as the older woman finally climbs the bed. The young Stark scoots closer to the wall as Daenerys settles at her good side. She placed the blanket on top of the new addition.

Their backs against the headboard, shoulders and arms press close and Arya reaches out to hold Daenerys hand, securely. A comforting weight settled on Arya's shoulder next and the two let the warm silence and the presence of each other anchor them the entire night.

*

The next time the young Stark opens her eyes, the day has already begun. Sunlight envelops her room. She's fully lying down now, once again cocooned in the comfort of the blanket but alone. Daenerys nowhere in sight. Arya wakes up, extra slowly, and sits by the bed.

She takes stock of her injuries. Nothing out of the ordinary besides the annoying throbbing and shooting pain each time she tried to move her torso, her neck and her mess of fingers. On top of all that, her clothes are repulsive.

Daenerys must have run off because she couldn't stand the smell. Arya grimaced.

She decides she needed that wash now more than ever. But once she starts cleaning the easier parts of her body, like her face, arms, and neck, the rag came up clean. Oddly enough, those parts of her skin also felt cleaner than last night. Even Needle lying on the small table is suspiciously clean. She paused, contemplating the mystery before shrugging.

The same cannot be said to her remaining torso as she finally rid of the bloodied shirt and pants which would make a perfect fire starter. Methodically, she wets the rag from the washbasin and cleans up as best as she could with one hand. Bruises are starting to form on some parts so she dabs at them mindfully.

The new set of clothes Devron left last night felt like silk against her skin as she dons them. Her matted hair is cleaned last. Untangling the knot and letting it fall as the wet rag did it's best wiping the grime away. She finished with tucking the loose strands behind her ears and didn't even bother to tie her hair back and left it at that.

Once Arya felt like a human being again, she finally steps out of the room and finds Devron seating at the counter by the end of the hallway. "Good morning."

The boy looks up from his reading. "Actually, it's already past noon."

"Oh."

"Are you hungry? Grab a seat. I'll get the food out." Without another word, he exits the hall and disappears into the kitchen.

Arya looks around, wondering where Tyler and Emilya are and most importantly where Daenerys is. She takes a seat by the nearest bench unsettle by the silence. As her eyes travel to the last corner of the dining hall, she finally noticed the silver-haired queen sitting there quietly, seemingly in her own world.

Her heart tugs at the lonesome figure. Arya can only imagine what kind of horrifying thoughts Daenerys has. Memories of last night's horror still fresh inside Arya's mind. And that dream—no, not dream. Bran was there inside her head asking her to do something in his stead again. Her fist tightens painfully.

But, her building anger vanished when Devron suddenly placed a bowl of mouth-watering stew in front of her.

"It's rabbit stew." He offered.

"Thank you." Arya smiled. "You're nicer than the last time I remembered."

He blushes before shrugging. "You left so suddenly. I haven't got the chance to pay you back."

The boy's embarrassment is endearing, to say the least. "Was the boar enough?"

"More than enough. Tyler sold the remaining meat and we got money to buy other things. Emilya even got a new doll." He grins which she matched.

"Speaking of, where are they?"

"They're off to the market. Tyler said he needed to get some stuff and Emilya wanted to tag along. They'll be home soon."

She nods and naturally her gaze travel to the desolate silver-haired woman in the corner.

Devron noticed where she looked. "She hasn't eaten anything yet. I've offered her some food but she said she wasn't hungry." He said with a small frown.

"Do you have that thin bread you last give me? Can I have some? They're really good." Arya asked.

His frown disappears as he nods and left to fulfil her request. Arya thanked him when a plate of said sweet bread is put on the table. Devron takes his seat back at the counter to continue his reading. Meanwhile, Arya stacks the plate on top of her bowl and walks to where Daenerys is.

The violet orbs flicker to meet grey ones finally noticing the new presence. Arya said nothing as she carefully placed both servings down the table and gingerly sits down across. Without waiting, she starts digging the stew and relished in the taste that hits her tongue. Devron is truly a prodigy.

"What are you doing?" Daenerys suddenly asked, shoulders tense. Gone was the frail woman that lay her insecurities bare last night instead the person in front seems to have put on walls in proximity and is waiting for something to struck and destroy them. There are bags under her eyes and dark shadows lurk inside the once vibrant depth of violet. Arya wonders if Daenerys slept at all last night.

"Eating." She answered late.

When she offered nothing else, the dragon queen looks away. Her body still tense even until Arya had finished downing the last broth of the rabbit stew. She wipes her mouth clean and waits. The silence stretches on for a while longer. It was almost deafening that she can even hear Devron turning the pages of his book from across the room.

Daenerys finally locks eyes with grey ones. "Why do you bring me here? Why did you save me?" Her eyes glazed over with a certain torment that Arya is highly familiar with.

Because I'm selfish. Because I want to keep you all to myself. Arya wanted to answer but she didn't.

"You almost die because of me. Millions already did." Daenerys closes her eyes in pain. "You warned me about this, but I didn't listen to you. I send my army away because I was too angry to see reason. I was arrogant and stupid."

Arya remembers Bran and her jaw clenches. "It's not your fault, Daenerys. Not entirely."

Daenerys snaps her eyes open. "How can it not? I'm the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms yet I can't protect my city and my people. My child even helps in destroying them."

"That's Euron's doing. Not you or Viserion."

Daenerys looks away again, defeated this time. Arya barely holds herself to reach out for Daenerys hand across the table. She takes the sweet bread instead. "You remind me of this bread." She said.

"What?" Daenerys frowns.

"How do you think Devron made this?" Not really expecting an answer, Arya continues. "I reckon it's only flour, milk, eggs and water. Maybe some kind of syrup for the sweetness. Honey perhaps."

The older woman doesn't look at all that impressed as Arya dismissed her entire guilty-speech to recite a recipe. But, grey orbs remain unyielding.

"Isn't it interesting that I can easily scatter the flour into the wind by simply blowing on it? Or smashing the egg to spoil it? But, if you combine all of those things together, you'll get a sturdy dough that requires much more force to break it apart. And what do you get when you put it into an open flame next? It gets even stronger and now it's perfect." Arya's gaze softens as she finds waiting violet ones. "So, you reminded me of this bread. Whatever pressure or force comes your way, I know you'll defeat them and become stronger. You already are a strong woman. You'll get through this too and be even more resilient."

The violet orbs in front wavers but Arya let the moment linger however long until Daenerys believes them. Until those weight of loss is lifted off her shoulders, however meagre.

"What if this—that this is the best that I can do?" Daenerys asked almost inaudibly.

"It won't be," Arya said, firm. "And even if it is, that's alright… You don't have to do anything alone." She offered the sweet bread then.

Daenerys hand trembles as she reached for it. Arya takes another for herself and tries not to stare when Daenerys finally starts nibbling. Even as the older woman's wall finally crumbles moments later, Arya stays to not let the shards hurt Daenerys further.

*

Unexpected guests came knocking the door of Tascer's Inn late that day. Four men appeared ragged as if they just barely escaped death itself. Apparently they were, and what's worse is their familiar faces meant that they had escaped the same hell Arya and Daenerys had run away from.

"I thought you said no one knew you were here?" Tyler hiss-whispered as he drags her by the elbow, away from the newcomers.

"I did," Arya answered absentmindedly, weighing the options if they should flee now.

How long until Euron's soldiers come and find them next? Find Daenerys. The said dragon queen is pulling away from Jorah Mormont's embrace. Tyrion and Theon are standing close by while another Dothraki Arya doesn't know is busy glaring around the room and then at the two children. Devron stands protectively in front of Emilya with an equally scathing glare.

"I covered our tracks. No one should know that we're here." She assured Tyler and moves back to the centre of the hall to seek the answer instead. She stops right in front of the still glaring Dothraki. "How did you find us here?" Her voice is loud enough for everyone to hear but her steely gaze never leaves the man.

"The raven, of course," Tyrion answered, moving to stand in front of her and subtly shoving the Dothraki aside which he grunts and then walks away to stand close to Daenerys.

Grey eyes find mismatch orbs then. "Raven?" The prickling under her skin begins to form.

Tyrion only nods and retrieved a scroll from inside his belt. And here Arya thought that the bird actually speaks to them as it did to her in Kings Landing, although not literally.

The cursives of the writings are similar to the one she received a while back. There is no doubt that this message is from Bran. He had written a specific guide towards the inn and promising Daenerys at the end of the journey. Arya bites back a curse and looked dagger at the four men instead.

"Are you sure no one follows you here?" She asked.

"We did as you said. You're pretty thorough with the direction." Jorah provided as he takes a seat and sighs.

Theon did the same across the bench. "Don't worry Arya, it's just us." His eyes soft or perhaps he's just exhausted from walking all day.

Arya doesn't bother to correct them about the source of the letter. Silently, she exchanged a glance with Tyler at the side and waits. She was aware of every pair of eyes thrown their way but she focuses on Tyler. This is after all his home and he has the right to decide if this is alright. His green orbs busy looking at each and everyone in the hall, cogs turning. They stop at Devron and Emilya before finally find Arya again seeming to finally make a decision.

"I'm Tyler." He offered a hand to Tyrion where the Lannister shakes it. "That's Devron and Emilya, my brother and sister."

"They own this place." Arya provided.

The tension in the room dissipates as Tyrion smiles and said with that diplomatic tone. "Thank you for having us. I'm Tyrion. This is Jorah, Theon and Kafat." The Dothraki's glare intensifies at the mention of his name. "Don't worry, he's all bark and no bite."

Arya doubts it. Even without any arakh, he looks like he knows how to fight. Daenerys placed a hand on his forearm and whisper something in their language. Instantly, Kafat nods and deflates.

"See? No bite." Tyrion tacks on.

"Can I have some water?" Theon suddenly asked.

"Sure. I can get you some stew too if you want. It'll only cost you 10 Coppers." Devron moves closer, putting a friendly face he saved for every potential customer.

Theon retreats to himself. "Um…I don't have any coins."

Devron's smile drops. He looks to the others. "Do any of you?"

"I'm afraid not. Forgot to grab my pouch when I'm busy running away from burning roofs falling on top of me." Tyrion said good-naturedly.

Devron doesn't look impressed. "Well, that's too bad. I'm glad you all survived but we don't serve free meal here. It's bad for business."

"Devron." Tyler chided.

"What?"

Tyler wraps an arm around Devron's shoulders and looks at his guests. "Why don't you all take a seat? We'll bring you something edible. Emilya, come help us in the kitchen?"

The little girl nods eagerly and with that Tyler drags Devron away.

As soon as the siblings disappear, an awkward silence befell the hall. Arya lands herself at the nearest seat. A familiar ache surges at her waist whenever she bends but, her head is worse as her mind is swimming with questions.

'Now what?' prominently echoes above them all.

Belatedly, she knows exactly what the answer is. The visit from Bran last night weighed heavy within her. But, she's had enough of whatever his grandeur design might be.

As if knowing what bothers her, Jorah asked. "What are your plans now that we're here?"

Arya pinches the bridge of her nose, irritated at the person that is not even here. Yet, he seems to control everything and everyone anyway—especially relentless in controlling her life and her actions.

"How do you know where we are when you send the raven?" Theon joins. "I was already out of the city when I received the letter to find these two." He points to Tyrion and Kafat.

Arya grits her teeth. "It wasn't me."

Everyone pauses and waits for more but Arya just wants to run away and hide. Now that they're here, perhaps Daenerys would be safer with them instead.

"What do you mean?" Tyrion questioned this time.

There was a shuffling of feet as someone takes a seat next to her and grey eyes focus to find concern pool of violet.

"Do you need to lie down?" Daenerys asked.

Arya relishes in the comfort of the older woman's presence and sighs. "No, I'm fine…" she trails softly and then finds Tyrion. "I mean that I didn't send those ravens. I wasn't even sure if any of you managed to escape from that hell hole."

"But, you know who does," Daenerys said more of a statement than anything. Her staring is too much for Arya to handle, so she looks away.

"I do… It was my brother, Bran."

Tyrion blinks, surprised. "Your crippled brother?"

Arya resists the urge to quip something snarky. "He claimed he's the three-eyed raven. And before you ask, I don't know what that could possibly entail. But, one of the perks is that he can control ravens and maybe other animals as well to his will… He's the one who wrote you those letters, leading you here." She breathes in and steels herself. "And the visions that I have…they all came from him. I'm simply a messenger."

As her last words hung heavy in the air, everyone was either frowning or gaping, painting an amusing sight if the situation wasn't so dire.

But then, Tyler strides back in the hall. His hands full with a heavy tray that occupied with bowls. "I hope you like rabbit stew." He said kindly. Devron follows close behind him with a jug and a few cups while Emilya has two in each hand.

"It's free, why wouldn't they like it," Devron grumbles and pours the mead.

Emilya offered one to Theon. "Here you go."

Theon mumbles a thank you and force a smile.

And then everyone just paused and stares at each other. Well, everyone—apart from the Tascer siblings—is staring at Arya.

Tyler shifts his stand awkwardly. "I'll let you get back to whatever you're discussing." He was about to dismiss himself and his siblings again before Arya calls out.

"You can stay, Tyler. This is your home."

His shoulders relaxed. "That's alright… You'll tell me later?"

Arya doesn't deserve his trust so blindly yet he's willing to give it anyway. She nods, firm and he seems satisfied before finally left again.

The noise from Theon's chugging down his water fills the void for a moment and soon the other men follow suit. Daenerys beside her still hasn't moved other than staring at an invisible point across the room.

"If what you said is true…" Jorah trails.

Arya's eyes twitched in annoyance. "Why would I lie?"

He focuses on her. "Let's say that it's true then…what is his plan gathering us here?"

"For you to escort the queen safely to Winterfell... His raven will guide you through safe passage just like today. Grey Worm and the remaining army is somewhere near Hornvale. Someone will have to go there and march them back to Winterfell as well."

"Why Winterfell?" Tyrion wondered aloud. "Dragonstone is nearer. The castle is strong enough to hold."

"Did you forget Euron has Viserion?" Daenerys goes rigid at the side and Arya tightens her grip around the bench. Her insides churn because of unintentionally cause Daenerys distraught but more so because of what she just realized Bran's plan might really mean. "And your question answered itself. Winterfell is the last place Euron would think to find the queen."

"You mean the last place Euron will destroy?" Daenerys asked quietly but it shot through everyone loud and clear. The violet depths are beginning to smoulder.

"Jon has sent out letters, warning every Lords and Ladies and the people about the threat. He's prepared The North to be a safe haven should they come."

"You expect that they'll just leave their homes and castles because of a letter? Even if it comes from The King of the North himself, he doesn't have any influence over everyone."

Arya is well aware of that. Her nails are painfully scraping under the wooden seat now. "Then, what do you want to do?"

The dragon queen blinks, unexpected at the ball thrown in her court. Jorah decides to answer in her stead. "We still have Drogon and Rhaegal, are we not?"

Daenerys looks as if she had been struck at the mention and Arya wanted to murder the Mormont for causing it.

"No," Daenerys said short, still holding Arya's gaze for a moment longer than necessary before finding her Hand. "I don't know where they might be… After I send them away, I can't reach out to any of them. But with more time, I'm sure I can call them out eventually." She said the last one to Arya, hopeful.

"Until you do, you can't stay here any longer. It's not safe… We have to keep moving."

She didn't need to explain more. Judging by everyone's submissive look, they seem to understand the danger that is creeping closer each seconds pass. And more importantly, no one is ready to come in contact with thousands of mutes and a slaved dragon for a second time so soon without proper backing.

But, Jorah leans forward. "And the Starks welcomes us with open arms?" he asked, still sceptical.

"As I recall, Jon didn't even reply to our correspondence a while back." Tyrion settled, though more subtle.

Memories of a certain bloodied feast from her other life decide to make itself known. Arya shudders at the gory image presented in the back of her mind. Frantically, her gaze finds Daenerys. There is no knife twisted inside her chest and no brothers looking over with a smug face.

They're right. What if Jon hurt Daenerys? What if Daenerys isn't safe in Winterfell? All she has is Bran's words and she had since decided not to trust him anymore.

"Perhaps that's because they're too busy preparing themselves to face the real enemy." Daenerys voice cut through and Arya's vision cleared.

"Khaleesi, I don't think we should trust the Starks blindly."

"They're honourable people." Theon suddenly said making everyone turn to him. But, he doesn't cower as he normally would. "Other than you, my queen, there's no other house I'd rather fight alongside with."

Daenerys only nods and doesn't seem offended by that. She finds Jorah then. "If they truly meant harm, then I wouldn't be here. All of you wouldn't be here."

That seems to shut everyone up. In a way Daenerys was right. Despite everything, they're still alive and breathing. Not much can be said the same to the millions that are lying in a pile of ashes just leagues away.

They're owed and desperate and once again, the three-eyed raven got what he wanted.

But Arya has a plan of her own.

*

Everyone agreed to leave at first light the next morning.

After much-heated discussion, they arranged to split into two groups. Well, one group and Jorah, that is. The Mormont decided to fetch Grey Worm alone before leading the soldiers north. His experience and skills make him the perfect man to journey the Westerlands by himself. That leaves Daenerys with more protection during their journey to Winterfell.

Arya couldn't agree more. Especially, since she won't be there to protect the dragon queen should anything happen.

As the night falls and they retreat to recuperate before the journey tomorrow morning, the young Stark goes over her own plan again within the safe place of her mind and the darkness of her room. When the stillness inside the lodgings become deafening, she packs the only thing in her possession, Needle, into her belt and steps out.

Outside, the hall is pitch black. The only gleam of light pours through when she opens the front door.

"Can't sleep?" A disembodied voice echoed and Arya froze.

There, by the corner of the entrance hall was Daenerys. She was seated at her usual place with a clear view of the front door as if she's guarding it. Arya's inside boils at the odd chance that perhaps she was doing exactly that. Did Bran somehow send a letter to the dragon queen too to stop whatever Arya is planning on doing?

At the stretch of silence, Daenerys has stood up and walk over. Her violet eyes study the girl up and down. "Where are you going?"

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Arya asked back. She tries to simmer down her building anger and breathes slowly.

Daenerys frowns, seemingly more alert now. "Where are you heading off to?" she repeated.

Arya grits her teeth. "Any chance a raven told you to stay there instead of sleeping?"

"What?" When Arya only glares back, Daenerys huffs a firm "No." She matched the glaring then. "I couldn't sleep. Forgive me if my nightmares offend you."

The bags under Daenerys eyes seem to grow under the gleaming nightlight. She looks miserable. Arya curses herself and looks away in guilt. "I'm sorry."

"You still haven't answered my question." Daenerys pressed.

"I'm leaving."

At that, the tension slowly builds as the silence creeps on. Neither move as grey held against violet again.

"We agreed to leave tomorrow morning," Daenerys stated.

"And you will. But I can't go with you. I have to leave now to take care of a personal matter… I'll come looking for you once I'm done." Arya moves to step out but Daenerys blocks her way.

"What kind of personal matter that you need to take care of to leave without notice and in the middle of the night?"

Arya made no effort to answer the question. Instead, she opens the door wider and slides pass.

"You're going after Euron, aren't you?"

For the second time that night, the young Stark stilled. Her fist tightens as she forced herself to climb down the set of stairs. Daenerys is now hot on her heels.

"Are you?" The dragon queen pushed, chest heaving as she moves quickly to block the path again. She saw the answer in steely ashen orbs. "This is suicide."

"No, it's not. But if it comes down to it I'll make sure I take him with me."

Daenerys forced a chuckle at the absurdity. "You're in no condition to fight him. Your hand's broken—"

"Luckily, I have two." Arya quipped.

"So, you're just going to leave me here?"

Arya works her jaw back and forth. "I have to stop him before he does any more damage. He has Viserion—"

"Precisely!" Daenerys cuts, exasperated. "You're going off to fight a man that has a dragon and thousands of soldiers behind his back, all by yourself. And how are you even going to find him? He could be flying half of the country by the time you caught wind of him."

"I'm not going to fight him. I'm going to assassinate him. It's what I do best… And I'll find him somehow. I'll find a way."

That doesn't seem to satisfy the dragon queen at all. "I'm coming with you then."

"No, you're not."

"You can't stop me." Daenerys turns and proceeds to walk down the road. The moonlight provides a clear enough view to tread in the darkness.

Arya sees red and follows after her. "Stop making this difficult, Daenerys."

"I'm making this difficult?" Daenerys turns and stops right in front of her. "You're the one who brought me here. You're the one who is leaving to become a martyr. We had a plan and we're supposed to leave for your home tomorrow. If anyone is making this difficult, it's you."

Her hackles rise dangerously. "I had the chance to save Missandei back in Kings Landing but I didn't. I saved you instead." Daenerys flinched at that and Arya bites the inside of her cheek until she can taste blood. "I don't regret saving you. I'd do it all over again… But, no one should've ever been forced to make that horrible decision. I'm leaving to stop that from happening to anyone else. And as long as Euron fucking Greyjoy is alive and raining down fire to innocent people and his mutes terrorizing towns and villages, those horrible things will keep happening." She finished. Her heart burns and her body trembles painfully.

Daenerys doesn't look that much better. "You'll die."

Arya takes a deep breath and walks pass. She has to do this. She'll kill Euron and end this nightmare for everyone.

"You can't just leave without reinforcements." Daenerys pleads from behind. The tone of her voice has already lost its fight. "You can't just leave me."

Arya's steps falter at that. Before she can delve further at how broken the voice sounded, there are arms encircling her waist and take hold of her completely. She stood there frozen for the third time that night as the warmth pressing her back grew hotter until it absorbs her ability to function.

"Arya, please…"

She never thought she would hear Daenerys say her name like that ever again. How is it likely that a single call coming out of Daenerys lips becomes her Achilles heel? It shouldn't be possible but here Arya is, weaker than when a knife had twisted inside her heart.

"Don't go."

The arms around her waist tighten until it becomes suffocating and painful when it pushed against her stitches. But all of those are nothing compare to Daenerys chest pressing warmly against her back and the hot breath against her neck.

"I can't lose you too," Daenerys whispered so softly if not for their closeness it would be lost in the wind.

Arya releases a shaky breath and grips the hilt of Needle tightly. She knows she can easily break apart if she wants to but her shoulders sag tiredly instead, accidentally leaning into the contact more. Daenerys buries her face until she finds skin and Arya curses herself.

The abyss of darkness in front seems to become farther and farther. Her resolves ebb away into the furthest place of her mind. She's trapped and she can't leave. Not anymore.

*

Winterfell used to hold so much pleasant memories and moments. But after growing up there more than one lifetime, the depressing ones seem to balance or even outweigh the good ones. Even if Jon, Sansa and Rickon are there waiting at the end, Arya couldn't the life of her be excited. She had long since accepted that she won't survive in the war with the Crow's Eye and ready to give herself up to the great cause even. So it's only fitting that she had come to term with not reuniting with her remaining family.

But now she's going home.

And she's sure that Bran will be in Winterfell as well. It was his plan to gather everyone there after all so it'll only befitting that he resides at the safest castle in Westeros at this moment—until it isn't anymore, that is.

It's one thing to see him in her dream-state mind and another else entirely to see him in person. Irritation, resentment, and rage are putting it mildly when it comes to what Arya feels about the three-eyed raven. Doing exactly what he wanted only fuels her fury. It doesn't help that all of this feels awfully familiar. But, she doesn't have that much choice. Either go along with it or run off in a suicidal mission—as Daenerys helpfully reminded.

"Come with us," Arya said to Tyler as the group is ready to leave the next morning.

Both Emilya and Devron had hugged her tightly whispering sad farewells which Arya returned just as fierce. Her heart tugged painfully at the thought of leaving the siblings when a war is brewing close by.

"It won't be safe. You can still pack your stuff and come along." Arya offered again. But, Tyler only smiles.

"This is our home. We'll be the safest here."

Even Devron and Emilya seem to believe that. Their gazes are relentless as they look up to her. She had, of course, told them everything about the danger in hopes that they will come with her to Winterfell. But they chose to stay instead. And the young Stark is at a loss to convince them otherwise.

"Don't worry, Arya… No one has never bothered to come here before so why would they start now. We're practically invisible from the map." Devron tacks on, grinning.

Emilya steps up, reaching for Arya's good hand. "But, you'll come to visit us again when everyone's not fighting anymore, right?"

She gave the girl a squeeze. "I will." And looks to Tyler then. "Do you have enough food? You should hide them somewhere safe in case anything happens. Hide your other valuable items too. Do you have a sword?"

Tyler chuckles at the ranting. "Devron has his kitchen knife." He offered.

Arya glares and bends down to retrieve a hidden knife from her boot. Though it's small, the blade had saved her life many times before and she hopes it will do the same to the siblings as she handed it over. "Keep it close to you."

Hesitantly, Tyler takes it. The small knife looks awkward in his grip but he mumbles a thank you anyway.

Not far from them, Daenerys, Theon, Tyrion and Kafat are sending off Jorah. Arya can't help but linger at the dragon queen, remembering those arms that wrapped protectively around her last night, begging her to stay.

"I meant to ask if you ever found who you're looking for." Tyler suddenly cuts her thought. She finds his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"When you left last time, you said you're going to the other half of your heart… So, who's the lucky bastard that stole your heart?" He asked, smirking.

Devron and Emilya silently watch from the side with interest. Arya feels her face heats up at the scrutiny. "It's none of your business." She dismissed.

But, Tyler doesn't relent. "Is it that awkward lad? Tom was it?"

"No way, Tyler… I bet it's that scary guy who glares at everyone. He stares at Arya the most." Devron joins, thoughtful.

"Do you think so? I guess the other one seems too old for her."

"And Tyrion's married. I asked him."

Arya can only stare, incredulous at the back and forth discussion that is happening as if she wasn't present. Emilya tugs her hand from the side. "Dany is pretty." She said with an innocent smile.

Grey eyes naturally flicker to Daenerys where the morning sunlight illuminates her in an ethereal glow. "That, she is," Arya responded absentmindedly and realized late what she had just confessed to. The warmth on her cheeks grew hotter.

It's Tyler's and Devron's moment to stare agape at her now. "Dany?" "Really?" They chorused while Emilya looks genuinely happy she was right. The little devil.

The young Stark chooses to stay silent but her scarlet face is a loud enough statement. And it got worse when she looks away only to find Daenerys is staring back curiously at their little scene from afar. Never before had Arya wanted so badly to disappear from the face of Earth.

*

When Bran said his raven will guide them. Begrudgingly Arya found out that he had meant it quite literally.

While Jorah heads west following after a crow, the others headed north similarly. There were no letters or any written guidance provided. Instead, they had to follow after a fucking bird. No one comments anything on the strangeness but Arya knew they felt equally insulted as she was. Or perhaps she's just projecting. Either way, the appearance of the black bird floating on top of their heads did nothing to soothe the animosity Arya feels inside her core.

So, it's not really surprising that she always lash out at anyone who gets close and tried to make small talk. Each time her mind wanders to where the road will take them, she bristled and everyone seems to know when that happened and gave a wide berth. It gets worse when her body often decides to betray her too. Her stamina seems to deteriorate and she ends up sweating like a pig. In the end, they had to constantly stop for her to recuperate. All she can do is glaring daggers at anyone who dare took pity.

But, one person was unaffected by all of these. And Arya hated her the most.

Daenerys ends up the only one that is brave enough to step inside her orbit and took care of her injuries. Arya knew she only did it out of obligation. Unlike Tyrion and Theon, Daenerys doesn't even seem to want to make small talk. Which is fine by Arya, really.

She should've known better that Daenerys care about her just like any of her subject. The warmth from the older woman's embrace that night has been locked in the furthest place of her mind since apparently it meant nothing. Daenerys was just trying to stop her from making a stupid decision. Judging by her incoherent state right now, the dragon queen was right.

"Why is your braid like that?" Arya asked Daenerys.

They had made a second stop that day for her to take a breath and Daenerys was tending to her side when Arya noticed a messy braid tuck inside platinum hair. It stood out amongst the loose strands the older woman sported.

"Emilya did it. What, you don't like it?" Daenerys quirked her brow.

For the first time since she left Tascer's Inn, Arya feels the corner of her mouth lifts. "That explains it." She missed the bright little girl already.

Daenerys shares her smile but it was gone when she moves to check the mess of Arya's fingers. Like a whiplash, the easy moment vanished and their surrounding suddenly felt cold. Daenerys makes quick work to unwrap the bandage as if she couldn't stand being this close any longer. Arya swallowed the bitterness expertly.

"Do you want to go back? We can still turn around." Daenerys suddenly asked.

Arya blinks dumbly. "Huh?"

Daenerys doesn't look up from tending her broken fingers. "Tascer's Inn… You can still go back. Tyler would be happy if you decided to stay."

Arya doesn't know where this is coming from but Daenerys sounded seamlessly serious and willing. As much as Arya wants to not do what Bran asked her to, she can't stay and do nothing either. It's better for everyone to quickly regroup and plan their next move. And all of the forces seem to be in Winterfell.

"I wouldn't be of much help if I stay behind." Arya finally answered. "I just want to get this war over with."

Daenerys tensed. "Right… And that couldn't happen without Drogon and Rhaegal."

"Yes…but—"

"I'm sorry I still couldn't call out to them." Daenerys cuts effectively and with a blink of an eye, she was gone.

Arya can only stare, dumbfounded at what just happened. Her gaze lingers around to search for answers but found no such thing in the leaves and rocks. Sighing, she cradles her perfectly new-bandaged hand and stands up. There's still a long journey ahead of them after all.

*

After that last interaction, Daenerys seems to avoid Arya all the more. Even though the older woman still diligently tended her injuries with silent precision, she would often disappear as fast as she came.

When she didn't spend those little time with Arya, Daenerys was often alone, meditating, or that's what Arya thinks she's doing. She later found out that the dragon queen was actually trying to reach out to her children. It usually happened while the others make camp. That's when Daenerys would go off in a distance to find a secluded spot far enough, to try again and again.

As much as Arya enjoyed the back view of the older woman from afar, Daenerys always comes back more frustrated than when she left. Arya wanted to help but if the tranquil forest and the peaceful breeze did nothing, she wonders what else she could offer. Especially since Daenerys seems to tense whenever they share a space.

Under the stars, they gathered around the fire pit that Kafat made. Their guide-raven had long flown off whenever the sun sinks in the horizon. It was the only time that Arya finds herself relaxes. No mastermind crow in sight was probably the main reason for that. The smoke of the skinned rabbits that Theon hunted perch in a stick near the flame was wafting a heavenly smell that made her stomach grumbles.

"Question for today." Tyrion starts, gaining everyone's attention from the slow-cooking meat. "What's the first thing you'll do once you're free of these woods?" He asked with a curious smile.

The Lannister had suggested a guess-game the first day they travelled just to pass the time and to know each other better. And they coincide because of the expectation that it could be fun. But when everyone's guess is way off the mark and only made the moment dragged, they agreed to just answer the damn question themselves.

Across her, Daenerys translated Tyrion's inquiry to Kafat which the Dothraki starts to think immediately.

"Well, I guess we can start with me… I'm going to find good wine and get myself drunk as a skunk."

"No brothel?" Theon jumps in.

"You didn't let me finish..." The Lannister mock-glare. "And then I'll run to the nearest brothel." Theon rolls his eyes. "How about you, Kafat?"

The Dothraki straightens having finished deciding. "I am sick of rabbit's meat. I want to eat bacon." Arya hides a smile as Daenerys recites to the others.

"Hear, hear! Any chance for a change of menu?" Tyrion tilts his head.

Theon grabs one of the cooked meats then. "You can always go out hunting a wild boar yourself and I'll collect the firewoods instead."

"I'm a pretty good collector. I doubt you'll surpass me." Tyrion quipped. "Now, Kafat can definitely hunt, yes?"

His dark eyes gleam confidently. "Yes. I will get us bacon tomorrow."

Daenerys chuckles softly. "He said he'll try." This makes Theon looking all the more annoyed while Tyrion grew excited at the prospect of new meat.

"Excellent… How about you, Arya?"

Truth be told, Arya doesn't want to get out of this forest at all. Even if there is no raven cawing over their heads at the moment, she can't help but feel she's being watched. And what's more, is that there is no way she'll be sure of what's waiting at the end. It feels like Bran had a trap waiting for her in Winterfell and she can do nothing but walk straight into it.

"I don't know. I can't think of anything." She finally answered, mumbling a thank you as Theon passes the meat.

Of course, Tyrion will not let that go. "Come now. Surely there must be something you want to do once you're within civilisation… Anything at all or perhaps anyone?" he raised a teasing tone at the last part.

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. "There's no one in the north beside my family."

"You know you can always write to him." Daenerys suddenly interrupts.

Arya finds violet gaze curiously. "Who?"

"Tyler. You can always write to him letting him know you're safe. Emilya and Devron would be happy to hear from you." Daenerys finished looking slightly affronted.

"Oh…yes, I could." She trails, unsure. "I guess I'll do that." She finally settled hoping to satisfy the dragon queen but to no avail since Daenerys decides to ignore her for the rest of dinner. A short "Getting Drogon and Rhaegal if I still haven't by then," was the dragon queen's answer.

Arya only felt a slight disappointment when she didn't hear Daenerys voice again. Tyrion and Theon mostly fill the night with tactless chatter and the air feel easy and familiar.

When their belly is full and their thirst is quenched, they fall into another routine as they ready to unwind next. It was Kafat's turn to take the first watch tonight. So, everyone else is busy preparing their spot with their bedroll (the hard ground) and their pillow (the bags and its' content).

Arya was about to close her eyes when a rustle of movement grew louder and then stops at her right side. She tilts her head to the source and found Daenerys already settling there. Usually, the older woman would sleep close to Kafat even if he's on watch and Arya would always be the furthest from the two.

Daenerys already had her eyes closed by the time Arya wanted to ask if she was lost. So, Arya decides to save her question for never. She likes having the dragon queen close.

"Can I ask you a question?" A disembodied voice—soft and inviting—suddenly cuts through.

Daenerys has turned sideways and is now facing Arya fully. One of her hand props under her cheek and the shadows in those violet orbs gleam from the dying flame of the pit making them darker than usual. Arya mirrored the position.

"You already did."

Daenerys ignores her jab. "How do you meet Tyler?"

The young Stark blinks, getting her bearing. Even if she's curious why Daenerys seems to be mentioning him a lot, she squashed the bubbling jealousy and told the truth. "He saved my life. When I killed Cersei and the Mountain, I was injured badly. Tyler found me unconscious and brought me to his home and took care of me."

There's a light snore coming from opposite their feet.

"I see."Daenerys pause seeming to contemplate. "He's a good man."

"He is." The warmth and Daenerys mesmerizing stare did nothing to help her drowsiness. It felt oddly calming even if Arya can see those violet depths seems to have a battle of their own.

"I'll put in a good word for you and Tyler if your family is not as accepting."

The sleepiness quickly evaporates. "What?"

Daenerys looks annoyed that she had to repeat it. "I know my words would probably mean nothing to the Starks, but it's the least I could do. Or I can grant Tyler a Lordship once everything is over. He deserves it. I'm sure your family would be least opposing by then… Besides, if all is failed, you're good at convincing people."

"Why would I…" Arya slowly props herself up by the elbow as if the additional height would somehow give a different perspective. As she stares down at Daenerys unrelenting face, everything clicked in place and a slow smile spread. "You should definitely consider giving Tyler a Lordship. I'm sure he'd be a great Lord. But, I don't need to convince my family of anything."

Daenerys frowns and Arya's smile only widens. "I know you don't care what everyone else thinks, but your family—"

"Tyler and I are not like that." Arya cuts the rant.

Daenerys mouth is slightly apart as she processed what had been said. Her frown only deepens. "Is he not the one that you wish to protect? Your first love and your last?"

"He's not." Arya lowers down and settles back comfortably. The darkness in those violet eyes seems to lessen revealing the familiar depths.

Daenerys mutters a small "Oh."

Oddly, the air tonight somehow had grown warmer despite their geographical location. Arya realized late that a lazy smile still plastered on her face.

"So, all this while you thought Tyler and me…"

Daenerys cheeks seem to grow red. The air is definitely warmer somehow. "Not another word, Arya."

Her heart swells and she tries not to linger on the way Daenerys casually said her name again. It felt awfully familiar and it's terrifying.

"If Tyler isn't your first love, then who is it?" Daenerys asked after regaining herself.

Arya raised a brow. "You really shouldn't go around asking people who their first love is."

"Is he waiting at Winterfell?"

"It really is quite rude."

"Did you grow up together?"

It appears that Arya would never get to sleep if the dragon queen's resolute look is any indication. She sighs. "It's complicated."

Daenerys face lights up at the almost answer. "How so?"

Grey eyes soften as they study the person in question. "She doesn't remember me."

Their surrounding seems to drown as they lost in each other's senses. Arya waits for the comprehension of the obvious gender correction to go through the older woman. She was not disappointed when it came. The realization was loud and there's too much going on in those violet depths for Arya to interpret them.

"How can she not remember?" Daenerys finally asked. Her eyes sharper.

"It happened a long time ago."

"How long can it be that she can't even remember you exist? Does she have a memory of a teaspoon?"

"In a way, I'm kind of glad she didn't remember… She could be much happier with someone else if she wanted to."

"That's still terrible of her to forget you."

"It's not her fault."

Daenerys jaw clenched. "You must have been so enchanted by her prowess to lose all of your common sense." She mocked.

Arya tries very hard not to smile so stupidly. She hums instead. "Quite so... She's the most divine woman I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

That seems to be the wrong thing to say because the smouldering violets are suddenly gone replaced by strands of silver hair instead. While Arya would've liked to fall asleep looking at Daenerys face, the back of her head will do.

*

Their travel had been smooth ever since they left Tascer's Inn a fortnight ago. The raven's interpretation of a safe passage consisted of thick forest and no other human interaction. It was funny in a cosmic way that they're still alive because of a literal crow when they're running away from another. So, it would only be fitting that their lucky streak would come to an end.

When Theon murmured of their water running low, Tyrion complained to the heavens above and the raven flew off to a distance in search of a creek like it always did. As they wait for the raven to return, the others scatter finding a spot for a quick rest.

Daenerys was instantly by Arya's side to do her usual obligation. Today, it's time to remove her stitches. "You know…" Daenerys trails as she diligently tends to the healing wound. "First loves usually don't work. So, you might as well save the heartache now and forget about her."

Arya's lips quirk upwards. Watching Daenerys dismissing herself is quite amusing to say the least. The young Stark decides to indulge into it further. "I don't want to forget her. It's not all bad."

"I'm sure." Daenerys quipped. "And your loyalty is admirable. But, isn't it time to move on? Find other people." When Arya offers nothing, the dragon queen stops to throw a curious glance. "Or are you practising celibacy?"

Her face suddenly feels warm. "Not exactly." It came out more like a question than anything. Does it consider as such if one hadn't even done it before?

"What does that mean? It's either you do or you don't."

Arya clammed up, slowly starting to regret her life choices now. This is not the time or place that she wants to discuss her maidenhood with Daenerys of all people.

At the too long of a pause, Daenerys had her full attention on Arya now. The gleam in those violets seems to brighten as if she knows the secret of the universe. "Well then, you're going to miss out on a lot."

She swallowed a lump. "Like what?"

"Like being in a company of other woman of course. Who is more beautiful...and of higher status and even higher credibility."

Arya stares unblinking, hypnotized, as the dragon queen lifts her chin, looking quite regal despite her modest attire and the woods surrounding them.

"Other woman that will certainly remember who you are," The dragon queen finished with a little smirk. Her confidence is oozing from her person.

Arya tries to think of a response but her head is spinning from what Daenerys just said and implied. Furthermore, her insides felt funny. Before she can say anything else, the bushes across them rattle and suddenly they're not that alone anymore.

Mechanically, her feet shoot up, gripping tightly against the pommel of her sword. By now, the others were pretty much on alert as she was. The air tense as everyone stares at the newcomers.

"Hello, there." The stranger greets with a smile. Behind him, five more came out from the thick forest.

Tyrion, always the mediator, steps forward. "Greetings, lads. Where are you headed if I may ask? You're not lost are you?"

The men share a smile among themselves and Arya didn't like it. Did Bran send these men? She looks up in search of clues but there is no raven perching on top of the branches.

"Not at all. We were just hunting…" The man replied. His hand casually resting on the handle of his longsword. Arya took stock of the other men. One has a bow and the others had either their own sword or knives strapped around their waist.

As the others slowly step forward, the bowman moves further at the side getting a clearer view of everyone. Though they sported nonchalant and friendly faces, their eyes keep lingering toward Daenerys.

"How about you?" The man, their leader, asked.

At the corner of her eyes, the bowman's right hand slides behind and Arya pulls out Needle quickly, blade outwards and throws. The thin sword cut through the air and then right between his eyes.

"Greg!" The leader shouted, wide-eyed. As Greg falls down with a loud thud, the pretence vanished with it. He pulls out his longsword and snarls. "Get the white-haired bitch."

The sound of steels unsheathing echoed through the woods. On instinct, Arya moves to stand in front of Daenerys as they charge. Theon and Kafat swiftly engage the incoming men with their own sword and knife. Two slip through the chaos and tries to snatch Daenerys away.

Arya was faster as she reached Daenerys hand and run the other way, where Needle lays.

At the same time she pulls out her sword from Greg's skull, the other two men were in close enough proximity. One of them managed to grab a fistful of Daenerys sleeve but Arya slashes the offending arm, drawing blood.

Another hacked her way with his sword at the same time his comrade staggers away, groaning in pain. She ducks and rolls out of the incessant blade raining down and dash forward when she saw an opening. Before she can cut his neck open a movement from the side forced her to change course.

Arya curses under her breath and leans backwards barely dodging the second sword that wants to cut her face. Her heart is thumping loudly against her ears. Her side, a dull throb and her recovering fingers ache as she used both hands to grip the handle, stopping the sword above her head.

With a turn of her wrists, the force is redirected and the man's blade slides down as he loses balance. Arya kicks his hand and his sword soars. But, she was too slow to react when the second man had quickly recovered. Needle joins the ground soon after as she miscalculated her deflect angle.

At the moment of a slipup, someone from behind locked her in a chokehold. She gasps for air in panic as the arms around her throat painfully constricted her airway. In front, the second man was slowly closing in, sporting a stupid conceited face.

A low grumble bubbles beneath her burning chest. She reached backwards and claws her strangler's face. He screams like a little girl as she felt his skin gathered under her nails. And a swift kick is to the second man's groin when the air finally enters her lung again.

Though, she didn't get the chance to take a breath when a sudden blow hits her side right after. Arya saw stars and falls down to her knees. And then another force from behind knocks the wind out of her sending her sprawling on the ground.

She grunts at the shooting pain coursing her middle. Her arms wrapped protectively around her healing wound. It didn't get any better when another kick finds its way at the back of her head and then at her rib.

"I'm going to kill you slowly, you hear me, little cunt!" The man spat before landing another kick to her back.

Expertly, she ignored the incessant blow raining down her bodies and curl further into herself. Dirt flew in her tongue and nose through the meagre blockade of her arms and legs.

Just as fast the attack had started, it stops with singing steels. Her chest heaves as she peers through the crack and saw the second man walking away, Daenerys an arm's length with a sword too big for her to handle.

The young Stark froze in panic as the older woman swings her sword but was easily dodged. The man then strikes and Daenerys fall down at the brunt of it.

"NO!" Arya cried. It feels like clusters of wildfire had exploded in her brain as her eyes still linger on the fallen body. With a shrill scream, she grabs a fistful of dirt and throws them at the man near her feet. He staggers away at being temporarily blind while Arya pushes herself up and runs towards Daenerys.

The second man turns to face her, sword ready and thrust it when she nears. But, all Arya sees is red. Her body moves into their own accord, weaving around the blade's path and climbing on him, locking his head with her thighs. With pure adrenalin, she pulls his chin and twists his neck clean.

The air pause for a second before he finally drops and Arya disentangled herself, staggering towards Daenerys unmoving figure. Her heart is burning cold and it builds, like an unstoppable snowball in the pit of her stomach. "Daenerys." She calls frantically, pulling the older woman up.

The only response was a small groan which did nothing to ease her fear. She reaches to cradle Daenerys face. Grey eyes wild in search of discomfort at every other part of her body.

Daenerys promptly stops her ministration. "I'm fine, Arya." She said.

There seems to be no open skin or whatsoever on the dragon queen that suggested otherwise. "You're fine." Arya echoes, still unbelieving.

Daenerys reached out to Arya's wrists that still held her face. "I'm fine." She said, firmer. Her gaze is sharper as it grounds the wild ones in front.

Arya releases a shaky breath and slumps. Still cradling Daenerys face, she leans to rest their foreheads together tiredly. "You're alive." She whispered more to herself. For a while there, she had thought…

The older woman's hold on her wrists tightens to the point they almost hurt. Her hot breath and the warmth of her skin slowly help to clear the red in Arya's visions and the panting of her breath.

The moment was broken however by a soft grunt and clumsy paces not far. Begrudgingly, the young Stark pulls away from the contact and stands up. She grabs the unattended bow and an arrow from Greg's quiver.

Across, the man had retrieved his sword as his vision cleared but he pauses when he finds an arrow steadily pointing at his direction. His eyes are comically wide against the red welts of scratches on his face.

He glances to their surroundings in search of assistance but Kafat had just finished slitting the leader's throat and Theon is pulling up a weary-looking Tyrion under a man's body. Another man lay sprawled near them, lifeless.

She waits for his eyes to meet hers again before releasing the arrow. The sharp tip goes through the back of his hand and out his forearm, and his sword clatters down. Arya nocks another arrow and plants it deep in his thigh next. His cry of pain is the only sound blanketing the forest pulling Kafat with Theon and Tyrion hot on his heel.

Throwing the bow to the side, Arya grabs Greg's knife from his belt and follows after the now crawling man. Her knuckles are white from clenching the hilt too hard. Her teeth gritted from the effort to remain calm and collected.

The man had taken refuge against the bark of a tree. His back leaned as he looks up to her closing in. Her hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid – burning, slicing, and potent that made Kafat, Theon and Tyrion stopped and gave her a wider berth than necessary.

"You think I'm afraid of you, girl?" he said, chest puffed out from his awkward position on the ground. But, his wavering tone betrayed his mask.

The knife met the flesh under the man's armpit as he tries to punch her. Arya twisted the blade, making a satisfying squish as it sinks deep enough. He screams in pain and jerks back, sagging against the tree when she pulled the knife out.

"Fucking bitch." He sputtered in misery. Arya flips her knife to sink it in his unpierced thigh next. His eyes grew wide as another surge of pain shot through.

She pushed the steel upwards making the skin tear, eliciting an agonizing roar from her victim. "No, stop! Please!" The shiny blade disappeared further. "Please! We're just following a bounty." She stops just near his crotch.

His chest heaves violently and his eyes glazed at the increased blood loss. "Please…" He begs, looking over her shoulders at the people standing behind. She leans forward, forearm pushing his throat. His eyes snap back at her in terror. "Let me live. Please… I won't tell…the Crow's Eye. No one else took this route… It's just me." The muscle on her grip only tense further and she sliced his stomach open to release it. His cry was a glaring sound, guttural chokes through her ears. "I swear… I won't—please."

Without warning, the knife goes through his heart. His head tilted back and his orbs grew unfocused until they stop seeing. The rush of his thick blood flows freely from the gaping holes, soaking the soil. Gingerly, Arya cleans the bloodied blade on his shirt and stands up.

"I'm going to scout the area, just in case." She said to no one in particular.

"I…I don't think he's lying," Tyrion muttered but Arya had already left.

*

The trees are laughing once more, dressed in green and earthly hues of the branch and trunk. As they play about under the blue sky, Arya takes in the freshly calm air in hopes that the sweet tang of blood in her nostrils would be replaced by the hint of earthly fragrance instead.

But try as she might, she can't escape her mind as it's still reeling from what just happened. From what she had done.

Bran had promised a safe passage yet the corpse of men not far from her is a different statement. Was this all part of his plan? Another thing from his list that needed to happen?

The men were nothing but common sellswords and she and the others had come out of the fight mostly unscathed. Perhaps that's why Bran didn't even bother to warn them of the danger since there was going to be none. If anything her experience had taught her was that the three-eyed raven would do nothing without reason especially if it benefits his greater design. So, what could possibly be his play here?

Arya's whirling thoughts got cut off abruptly when soft hands suddenly envelop hers. Grey eyes focus to meet with violet irises full of concern. Instead of sitting on the protruding root next to her, Daenerys kneeled in front. Eyes busy studying her face.

"You're trembling," Daenerys said, softly.

Arya looks down to her hands to find them shaking like a leaf. The knife is still in her grip and seems to be etched under her skin permanently when she failed to release it. But, Daenerys carefully pries her fingers open and take it away as if it was nothing. She then leans close to wipe Arya's cheek with her sleeve. It comes out bloody.

"It's the world that we lived in—either kill or be killed… It has always been our way of life." The dragon queen offered, voice comforting and soothing. She gave a squeeze at their still joining hand while continue wiping Arya's bloodied face clean.

The young Stark knows she should be remorseful torturing that poor man but it overweighs by the fact that Daenerys could have died back then. Her insides lurch uncomfortably again. She would go back and gut the men one by one if they hadn't died already. Hence, feeling guilty of killing those men are the farthest from her mind right now.

"I almost lost you." Her voice wavered only slightly. Daenerys with a knife in her heart and her last smile before riding Drogon away are always a part of her now.

Arya wasn't competent enough to save the older woman back then. Even now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't even save the one that truly matters to her. Her Father and Mother, Robb, Derwin and Missandei. Perhaps that's a telling that she's bound to fail the millions of people in Kings Landing and many more to come. But, what's frightening her more than failing humanity is losing Daenerys all over again.

Her shaky hand tightens their hold a fraction. "Just for a moment…I thought I lost you."

Daenerys paused her ministration on Arya's face and lingers. The dragon queen's palm feels hot against Arya's cheek.

The air seems to pause with them as they stared at each other in a silent parley. Neither wants to back away and interrupt whatever this may be. Arya wouldn't mind spending her remaining life as such. The violet gaze flickers down to her lips for a moment and that is the only warning Arya gets as Daenerys closes the gap and kiss her.

The palm on Arya's cheek moves to gently cradle her jaw as Daenerys leans further, deepening the kiss. The world fell away around her and Arya froze. Daenerys lips were slow-moving and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. And then it suddenly stopped.

Daenerys pulls away with a small frown, eyes searching. "I…"

Arya's head is spiralling. The view of the older woman looking up, still kneeling on the ground, is doing things to her weakening heart. She didn't want Daenerys to stop.

"I was…"

Any more words that Daenerys wanted to say was lost as Arya tugs their still joining hands, getting the older woman close once more. Their lips meet again and this time Arya makes sure that she reciprocates. Her lips were firm but the kiss remained soft and gentle. Daenerys lets out a small sigh and melts further as she mirrors them in perfect sync.

Arya feels like her body had been taken over by the overwhelming feeling of relief and fear as their lips still in a slow heated dance. She tilts her head for a different angle, unintentionally deepening their kiss. Daenerys let out a soft moan at the back of her throat sending delicious shivers down Arya's spine.

With charging energy, she wraps her arm around Daenerys waist and lowers her down the ground. Their joining hand untangles as Arya cradles the back of Daenerys head, cushioning against the hard surface.

Daenerys pulls Arya's neck with both hands instead, adding more pressure to their moving mouths. Their chests are press so close together that Arya can feel their hearts beat the same rhythm.

Eventually, they parted for air. Their hot breaths mingle on each other's faces. Grey eyes hesitantly trail to lock with violet ones and Arya saw a swirling of emotion in those depth or perhaps it was her own reflection. Either way, it made her core pricks and burns. It multiplies when Daenerys reaches to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. The soft touch sends tremor in her nerves.

Daenerys closes their gap again to continue where they had left off, bringing her to another thrilling journey. The castle that Arya was born in is still leagues and leagues away. Their warm stone walls and familiar nook and cranny had never failed to bring comfort. But right now, here with Daenerys, Arya never felt more at home.