Her favorite day of the year was her name day.
It wasn't because it was a reminder that she was growing older– that fact alone almost made it her least favorite day. She did not want to think about how she would soon be expected to become a priestess herself and sing praises to the fire god for the rest of her life.
It was in anticipation of what would come for the nights after. Her birthday marked the day before all the floating lights began to appear in the western sky.
She had never managed to get a straight answer out of Melisandre about it, but luckily for her, Kinvara from the southern Free Cities had taken up residence in their manor recently. Arya was aware that there was no lost love between the two women, and Kinvara was happy to undermine Melisandre by telling her where the lights were from.
"It's an interesting story, princess," Kinvara told her with a sly smirk, her face wreathed in the gentle light of Arya's bedroom fireplace. "Some years ago, an heir to a house of Westeros was stolen from its castle. The people hope the heir is found someday, and they cast those lights up to help lead the way home."
Arya stares at the priestess in confusion. A religious practice maybe, a celebration of a battle even, but this was not at all what she was expecting. "The people do realize the heir probably died soon after they were stolen, yeah?"
Kinvara's soft laugh set her on edge— there was definitely more to the story than she was letting on. "Our Lord works in mysterious ways, Arya. Some secrets only he is privy to."
Those words stuck with her as the two of them looked up at the night sky several nights later, the twinkling Westerosi lights reflected in her wide eyes. "One day, I will go to see the lights released in Westeros."
Kinvara hummed in quiet amusement, like Arya had just reminded her of an inside joke only she knew. "As you say, so you will, princess."
A/n: sorry for the shortness of this chapter, the prompt was brief and it'll start to pick up next chapter when Gendry gets to Braavos.