For almost two full days even the terrified Maester with every reason to lie, admitted he didn't know what Arya's chances would be. After agreeing to help, a pair of Dothraki had carried Arya, following Maester Robb to where he could work most effectively. While that was happening, Daenerys ordered the three civilians and their Lord sent back to the dungeons.
Daenerys refused to leave her. It fell to Missandei to bring food and fresh clothes at random-feeling intervals. Many of the warriors came to inquire about Arya's condition, but Jorah remained absent. She hadn't seen him since she sent him away.
Each hour brought more panic if that were possible. She sat beside the bed, clutching Arya's hand and whispering to her in private, completely unconcerned with the Baratheon loyalist nearby. The Blood Riders were in the room, so she knew she didn't need to be concerned for her safety. She never had a problem watching Arya sleep, but this was torture. Now all she wanted was for her to wake up so she could see for herself that all her brutal methods were worthwhile. In hindsight, she was appalled by what she'd almost done, by what she was fully willing to do, but she didn't let herself dwell on those thoughts for long. Daenerys did what needed to be done, no more and no less, exactly as Arya would have done for her. In a strange way, it felt oddly comforting to be the person doing the saving for once.
When the hand she was holding twitched the first time it was so soft she almost didn't feel it. She'd been dozing off in the chair when it happened so she blamed a dream. The second time it was clearly deliberate, she screamed for the Maester not caring that he was in the room with her. Like an idiot he tried to send her out, claiming he needed room to work. Daenerys refused forcefully and suggested he ignore her and check on his patient.
Her eyes opened less than an hour later. Her voice cracked the first time she tried to speak. "W…what happened?" she asked, looking rather uncertain as she blinked at Daenerys.
Relief had tears coating her cheeks and she couldn't even be bothered to reach up and wipe them away. "Nothing unexpected," Daenerys said, able to laugh for the first time in days, "you just made me wait for you again."
"S…sorry," she mumbled, sounding exhausted. The eyes Daenerys was enjoying seeing had already begun to flutter closed.
Bending down Daenerys dropped a feather-light kiss on her lips. "Just rest, I'll yell at you later."
R-C
It was three more days before Robb was confident she would live. Another two days before Arya could stand and as soon as she could she was trying to get out of the bed. Daenerys did her best to hold her back, afraid to aggravate her injuries. She wasn't nearly as pale as she had been, largely because Daenerys sat at her bedside and all but forced her to eat, drink and recuperate, but she still wasn't at one hundred percent and they both knew it. "Just where do you think you're going?" she asked, trying to laugh despite her worry that Arya's movement might tear the stitches.
"I have work to do," she said swallowing as she tried again to sit up.
"Relax, please," Daenerys begged. "Whatever it is, it can wait."
"I need to address the men, I should have done it right after the battle and I need to send Robert a message." Looking past the Queen, her orders went to the Blood Riders. "Find me Stannis and two soldiers and drag them outside."
"Arya, it can wait."
"It waited long enough, now please either help me or get out of the way and let me find my clothes."
Daenerys looked to the Maester to support her but he had his back to them, working desperately to pretend he wasn't listening. "Fine," she said with a sigh, "sit there and I'll find you something to wear."
When they neared their destination, Arya pushed off of Daenerys's shoulder and stood under her own weight. She should have expected it, she'd never want the people who followed her to see her weak. They stood on a stone wall, with gargoyles in the shape of dragons watching from both sides. It was a reminder to Daenerys of who had once lived here. The bodies had all been removed, but the ground was still stained with blood, there was very little brown or green to be seen.
Men, women and children alike all screamed when they saw their Khal alive and well. Arya waved to them, raising her arakh in the air, as she placed her other hand on the wall for support. Her weapon was covered in dry blood, but that only made the Dothraki shriek and cheer louder. "Missandei," Arya asked, "would you translate? I'd hate for our Westerosi friends to miss this."
"Of course, Khal and I'm glad to see you up again," she said kindly for only Daenerys and Arya to hear.
"I'm glad to be up," she answered back. Looking out over her people she began, "We came here for blood and we got it!" The cheers got louder and Daenerys couldn't hold back her smile. "We came to show them we aren't afraid! Many died and I mourn them but they are with the Khal now and he honors them as I honor you. We will meet them again, but first we kill our enemies! We must punish those who killed our Khal and who try to kill our Khaleesi."
Looking away from her excited people, Arya turned her head to the side where Stannis and the two soldiers knelt. Daenerys's looked too and she could see how Arya wouldn't continue until she was certain she had their attention.
"You know I came from these lands. I was born in the cold we visited." Beneath them, many of the Dothraki openly shuddered as they remembered the frigid weather. "I came from these lands and I know these people. They can not defeat you! I'd rather fight beside you than any army of theirs!" The cries from the courtyard were deafening. Arya waited for them to settle. "We are not yet finished. We will kill their King and no suit of metal can save him! If he is too afraid to meet us, we will kill his people," she foretold, looking again at her prisoners. "We will kill his people, we will burn his cities and we will take what we want!" With a final wave of her arakh she looked down at her adoring public, then with Daenerys at her side they went back inside.
She was again in the room with the Maester, sitting on the bed, arakh across her lap. Kovarro brought the three men who witnessed her speech before her. Next to her, on the bed, sat Stannis's armor and his sword and on the floor at her feet was a collection of bags. In addition to the bags the warriors had gathered from those who intended to burn their fleet, she'd added all the bounty from the battle, everything from Dragonstone with a Baratheon sigil. It was quite a haul. Her courier was going to need a wagon.
Before Arya could speak, Stannis spit in her direction. "You're as mad as she is. You're going to die here." He took a breath and then asked, "What happened to you? Your father is such an honorable man, how could he have spawned you?" He turned his hard eyes to Daenerys. "At least her father was insane, its in her blood, but you, it's disgraceful."
"Don't talk to her. You don't know the first thing about her."
He scoffed and spit again. His eyes moved to Daenerys and then back to Arya. "Gods, she didn't tell you, did she?" He barked a humorless laugh. "While you were dying on the floor she threatened to kill a child if my Maester here didn't aid you."
Her cheeks felt warm and it had nothing to do with her blood as she felt Arya looking at her. A dark eyebrow raised in question and Daenerys felt the need to justify her actions. "You were going to die, I needed to do something."
She wasn't expecting Arya to smile and turn back to the Lord. "It might make me insane, or disgraceful, or whatever else you called us, but I'm more than a little proud of her right now."
Stannis shook his head. "Gods you two are horrible. You deserve each other."
Arya's smile only grew. "You're right, I think we deserve each other too, but I didn't bring you up here to tell me why I should love her, I already know why I should love her. I brought you up here because I need your men to deliver a few things for me."
Pointing at one of the soldiers she waved him forward. "You there. Do you know the way to King's Landing?"
He nodded, looking warily at the Dothraki. "Don't worry about them. Now you know the way, you're certain?" Again, he nodded. "Good," Arya said as she lightly kicked one of the bags before her. "I want you to deliver these to King Robert. It's the head of every man we killed and every fucking Stag sigil I could find." The man blanched when he learned the cargo he'd be carrying. "You tell your gracious King that unless he wants packages like this from Arya Stark every single week, he better meet me."
"I w…will," he said standing as soon as he was able and making a rush for the door.
Arya whistled. "Aren't you forgetting something?" He froze and looked back. With a chuckle she directed him to the bags. Defeated he returned to the room to get the first two. Arya gave a dark laugh and before he was gone said, "I think you're going to need to make more than one trip."
"Gods you really have lost your mind. Fucking a Targaryen poisoned you."
Daenerys expected violence but Arya only smiled at him and waved the other soldier forward. "Luckily for you, you have a lighter load to carry. You're going to follow your friend there to King's Landing and take King Robert this sword and armor. You tell him what you heard here tonight and you tell him that we have Dragonstone, we have Stannis and we have four-hundred-and-eight prisoners. You tell him Arya Stark wishes to meet with him and if he refuses, the next package I send will have Baratheon skin. He has one month."
Just like his predecessor the man was eager to leave, but he remembered to take the items when he went. When Stannis and Robb were alone with the Dothraki the Lord spoke from his spot on the floor. "Why am I here? You plan to gloat or just kill me?"
She shrugged. "Tonight? Neither. Killing you now wouldn't benefit anyone and there is no cause to gloat. We arrived on your shore unexpectedly with an overwhelming force. Your men fought bravely and well, I can attest to that first hand, but you couldn't have won even if the Dothraki were half as skilled as they are."
"So then why am I here?"
"I thought you wanted to meet Daenerys," she said with a smirk. "How was I to know you two already got acquainted when I was resting?"
"You weren't resting, you were dying," Stannis corrected bitterly.
"And yet I'm still here. Go back to your cage and hope your brother values you more than I think he does."
With Stannis gone, the Maester excused himself under the guise of getting more materials. Daenerys ordered Harvin to go with him and then turned her attention on Arya. She found the Stark looking at her with an odd expression. She didn't know what to make of it until she remembered Stannis telling her what had transpired while she was unconscious. "I won't apologize! You were dying and…"
The laugh came fast and hard until her injuries forced her to stop short, coughing hard and futilely folding over to lessen the burden. Daenerys held the glass for her to drink from and then helped her settle back into a lying position. When she was able, she tried again, a delighted smile still written all over her face. "I'd never ask you to apologize for saving me. I was going to thank you and apologize to you for forcing you to go to such extremes."
"I was going to do it," she confessed. "I wasn't bluffing."
"I would have done far worse if the roles were reversed," Arya declared proudly, confirming what Daenerys had been telling herself for days to explain away her behavior.
"What does that say about us?"
Arya reached up, injures and all and pulled her down onto the bed. Daenerys went willingly, but was careful not to apply too much pressure as she snuggled in close. "Exactly what Stannis said, that you love me as I love you and we may just deserve each other."
R-C
One night after Arya had dropped into a restful sleep, Daenerys summoned Jorah. She hadn't spoken to him one word since the day she slapped him, but the time had come. She needed to know if he could still serve her, given Arya's place in her heart. if he couldn't she owed it to him to let him go.
"Khaleesi," he said formally as he bowed his head slightly, "you asked for me."
She had already poured the wine and was sitting at the table, across from an empty chair. "I did. Please come in Jorah, I think we are overdue for a conversation."
After he sat, she reached across to nudge a glass in his direction. "Drink and relax, this conversation will not be like our last."
"I hope not," he said before taking a sip.
"To begin, I want to apologize. It's a poor excuse, but I was frightened and upset and I took it out on you." As she said those words she remembered Viserys and hated herself for being anything like him.
"There is no need…" he tried to say, but Daenerys wasn't in the mood to be comforted. Just as she'd come to feel guilt for her actions against the civilians, she also regretted her harsh words toward Jorah.
"There is a need," she protested. "You have been my loyal and faithful friend for a long time now and you deserved better than to be an outlet for my anger." Moving her wine aside she laid a hand on the table palm up and waited. When Jorah placed his hand in hers, she closed hers tightly. "I'm sorry, for what I did and for what I said."
He smiled at her in a way that made everything worse. He had feelings for her she couldn't return and that right there was the crux of the problem. "You have nothing to be sorry for, the situation was," he paused and seemed to choose his words carefully, "difficult all around. I spoke out of turn and you acted accordingly."
Daenerys knew they'd never agree on this. She knew it was her fault, but she also knew Jorah would refuse to place blame on her, even when it was hers to carry. "Let us hope we both learned something from this, huh? I don't like fighting with those closest to me, regardless of the cause." He smiled at her wider than before and they both stood. She embraced him and didn't pull away when the hug went on a few seconds longer than was standard.
When they returned to their seats and their wine, Daenerys broached the more uncertain of the two topics she intended to discuss. "As I said, you mean much to me. I value your sword, your counsel, and your friendship. Our khalasar, our family would lose something if you weren't here and so you will have a place with me for as long as you want it." She looked across the table and could see that his smile was gone, his jaw set. "Arya is also important to me. I'm not asking you to feel as I do, or to like her, but I do ask that you tolerate her and accept her as a part of my life. If you can do that, we'll never speak of it again, if you can't, I'm afraid we may need to part ways."
"Daenerys," he said, looking horrified at her suggestion that they separate. "It's my job to protect you."
"It is," she verified, "and I keep you very busy in that regard but perhaps the only person you don't need to protect me from is Arya Stark."
"She's using you," he said in a huff, "exploiting your grief!"
Daenerys had to swallow down her anger, learning lessons from the last time the knight upset her on the subject. She needed Jorah to understand this and so she was going to have to be brutally honest. "She has never done anything of the sort. It was I who pursued her, it was me who wouldn't take no for an answer when she repeatedly refused me night after night and it was me who assured her I was ready, when she thought I was still grieving for Drogo."
Perhaps it was the passionate defense or maybe something he saw on her face but she could see at least some of the message got through. "She was sleeping on the floor, you both said so. Said it was a ruse to convince the others she was Khal."
"That was the case," Daenerys remembered unhappily. "For a long time that was the true, but it isn't anymore. I will always mourn Drogo but I can't spend the rest of my life alone."
"Of course not," he agreed, "but why?" He looked around her to the sleeping woman on the bed. "You could have chosen anyone. You could have…" his words stopped short but she knew what he wasn't saying. 'You could have chosen me.'
"Finish your wine Ser and then I suggest you retire to your chambers. If you decide you can't remain here and see Arya and I as we are now, I understand. I wish you well and we will part as friends. I offer you one of the ships and the crew to take you wherever you want to go, but if you're still here in the morning I'll trust you and I have an understanding. Whatever you decide, I hope this isn't the last time I see you."
R-C
While she may not have planned it that way, Arya's deadline for Robert to make contact inadvertently gave her time to heal. She remembered Robert, remembered the kind of King he was. He wouldn't send ravens on the first day after her victory, or even that first week. If they heard the Baratheon at all, she expected it would be when the deadline neared its end and not before. As for the meeting she requested she knew Robert would never meet her, no matter how many pieces of Stannis she cleaved off and had sent to the Red Keep.
After a trying week where everyone was on edge all the time, Arya's condition finally improved to a point where Daenerys would dare to leave her for short periods of time. Even with the progress they'd made in that regard Daenerys still checked her bandages twice as frequently as the Maester.
Not long into their wait to hear from Robert, Daenerys asked Missandei for help and the advisor agreed without knowledge of what would be asked of her. "What can I do Khaleesi?" In the days since Arya opened her eyes they'd all taken to speaking Dothraki almost exclusively to keep their captives guessing. With the Maester often in the room with them, minding Arya's wounds, it was a prudent decision.
"Down in the dungeons," Daenerys started, "the soldiers stay where they are, the Lord will remain but find a woman among the others, let them choose a leader to speak for them and then ask if she'd be wiling to meet with me."
"Of course."
"Assure her I mean her no harm, I only wish to speak about improving the conditions of the prisoners. If that's something she's interested in she can join me for lunch, if not, things will remain as they are."
"At once," Missandei said already heading for the door, but not before smiling warmly at Arya who was resting after a taxing walk around the castle with Daenerys earlier that morning.
"If she doesn't wish to meet with me," Daenerys shouted after her friend, "don't force her. If she agrees, tell the guards, no binds and they are to stay back, close enough to save me, but not to scare her."
The sounds of Missandei's footsteps faded a bit and then more until at last they heard nothing at all. She'd been on the brink of sleep when the conversation began and she couldn't help wondering what Daenerys was thinking. "You could have gone and done that yourself," Arya said after a brief quiet. "I'm no longer dying and its safe to begin living a life outside of this room again."
When Daenerys immediately looked away and then expertly avoided her eye, Arya understood she'd misjudged Daenerys's reasoning. "That wasn't why I sent Missandei, even if a small part of me still worries you'll stop resting the second I turn my back."
Arya couldn't deny that. They both knew just how valid her concerns were. "I promised you I'd rest until I felt better, and I'm still a few days away from better."
She folded her hands together against her stomach. "By now Stannis has told everyone in the dungeon how brutal and barbaric I was, and his claims will be backed up by the two women and the little boy I brought up to threaten. If any hadn't known of my family before, I'm sure Stannis shared all the grim details about my father's history…"
She hated when Daenerys spoke like this. To stop it, she lifted off the bed, blocking out the discomfort until their lips could meet. "You are not your father and his crimes aren't yours to pay for," she said as she sank back down.
"It's not my father's crimes I'm looking repent for this time," she said in a quiet, depressed voice, "only my own."
Arya sat up. Her damaged arm was still weak, too weak, but each day with effort she found she had a wider range of movement. She did her best to hug the Queen who wouldn't stop berating herself. "You saved my life," she stated simply. "You were in an impossible situation and you acted brutally yes, but this is war Daenerys. Sometimes brutality can't be avoided. You didn't hurt anyone. That boy, those women, all of them are still alive." It was silent for a long while with only the rain bouncing off the windows to be heard. "Is that why you want to meet with a prisoner, to check on the boy?"
Daenerys sighed, leaning into Arya's limited embrace and speaking into her chest. "Yes and no. I want to know he's okay of course, but I want to make sure all the captives are well. You said you doubt Robert will ever trade for Stannis, so what hope do any of the others have? If he'll let his brother rot at our mercy, he won't lift a finger for any of the others, no matter how much we threaten." She sighed again. "We can't release them, I know that," she hurried to say, "but we can make sure the women and children don't spend the entire length of our stay in the dungeons."
"What do you have in mind?"
"I sent some of the men begin clearing many of the largest rooms out yesterday," Daenerys explained, "making sure there are no weapons or other surprises waiting for us. Another group is doing the same outside When they're finished I'll have the rooms lined with beds, so they can at least rest in comfort. I also want to ensure they can go outside and get fresh air if they choose."
It really was impressive, in the heat of war, Daenerys retained her compassion and her heart. Arya couldn't possibly love her more than she already did, but it was nice to see bringing her to Westeros hadn't changed her.
"I think that's a great idea," she said honestly, "let's go check their progress."
"Oh no!" Daenerys quickly yelled, while she struggled not to laugh. "You aren't going anywhere. You still need your rest."
She thought about resisting but she was exhausted, and lying in bed had its perks. "If you expect me to stay in this bed Khaleesi, you're going to need to keep a very close eye on me."
Daenerys kissed the younger woman. "I was just thinking the same thing."
R-C
Ned Stark was enjoying a rare dinner with his daughter. They ate alone in the Hand's Tower. Ned had already filled his eldest daughter in on the majority of the family. Word of Arya's return to Westeros was widely discussed and gossiped about in the court and the keep, but Ned treaded carefully there, choosing instead to focusing on how Sansa's mother, little brother and nephew were doing.
"Robb and Talisa are well, and Little Robb is growing like a weed," Ned said fondly.
Her responding smile wasn't insincere, but it wasn't the bright one of her youth either. "That's good. Please send everyone in Winterfell my best the next time you write."
"I will."
"The wedding is on hold," Sansa said without much feeling. "The King feels that with the city under siege and his brother being held captive now is not the time for festivities."
She wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. It had been his idea, that they wait. Admittedly a large amount of his motivation came from the fact that he didn't want Talisa, Little Robb, Rickon and Cat on the roads to King's Landing with the Dothraki lurking about. While he didn't think Arya would purposefully hurt them, he still didn't trust the savages one bit. For his part, Robert was all too quick to agree. Apparently, he wasn't as thrilled as he'd once been with the idea of binding their families through marriage. He wondered where that would leave Sansa when all of this was done but he dared not ask. He'd just have to hope his friend could see the difference between Arya and the whole of the family.
"What do you think of that?" he quizzed.
Her silk covered shoulders lifted and then fell in a shrug. "It's not my decision. Joffrey and I will marry when Cersei decides and not before."
He couldn't deny he was proud of his daughter's shrewd and accurate assessment of her situation. "I suppose you're right." He set his fork down and leaned closer to her. "You need to be careful now," he whispered. "Things are going to be dangerous for us here."
"It's true then, about Arya? I can scarcely believe it. I thought for sure the rumors had to be wrong."
Ned could certainly understand that path of thought. "I did too. Until I saw her with my own eyes, I don't think I allowed myself to believe what I'd heard either."
"What is she like?" Sansa asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Ned covered his face in his hand and shook his head. How to answer such a complicated question? "She's wild and louder than ten of your mother and Talisa combined."
With a smirk, his daughter summarized, "So not all that different then?"
They shared a brief laugh before the seriousness was back. "She's very different. She can be kind and gentle as I remember her, but then turn cold and ruthless just as sudden. I spent weeks with her, in Winterfell, and then travelling to the Wall and I still feel as if I don't know her."
"Why would she want to attack King's Landing? She knows we're here, right? She must! Why would she want to do that to us?"
He put a big hand over Sansa's much smaller one. "Her reasons have nothing to do with our family and I think she feels her actions are justified."
"Are they?" Sansa asked, posing him the one question he didn't want to examine too thoroughly.
"Probably more than I'd like to admit."
R-C
Sorry for the lack of action in this chapter. I needed to let Arya rest and let Robert stew over what she might do next. In the next chapter she gets tired of sitting around and goes straight to King's Landing, so that's something to look forward to.
Thanks for reading.