Dolphins leaped aside as white foam formed at the foot of the bow, following the ship in its wake. The icy-cold wind blew in her face, reddening her the tip of her nose. Once upon a time, Arya stood at the bow of a similar ship, watching the land of Westeros disappear behind her.
On her horizon was Braavos and an exciting new life. There she'd stood, wind whipping through her hair, the salty sea air filling her lungs, her head filled of dreams of water dancing. Arya had been young and naïve, with notions fanciful as Sansa's romantic tales of gallant knights and princes, rescuing fair maidens. She didn't regret her choice to train to become Faceless Man, and wouldn't change her previous path, rendered unnecessary in this life.
The last time Arya stood on the ship sailing to Braavos, she thought she was flying. Arya chuckled at the memory. With age, she'd learned, standing on the bow of a ship was incomparable to flying, opposed to sitting atop a dragon, a thousand feet up. With autumn winds blowing icy-cold, flying on the bow of a ship, or on dragonback, sounded appealing.
By the time Arya reached White Harbor, a raven arrived from Sansa, asking for Jory to return to Queenscrown. Robb was to embark on a Lord's Progress around the north, and Jory was needed as her personal guard. Arya was glad she would be left alone with Theon. She'd dreaded taking Jory to Kings Landing. He'd interfere with her plans.
Jory remained in White Harbor, while they negotiated building a northern navy with Lord Manderly. Although the fat lord wasn't happy with Theon's role, he agreed to help. Lord Manderly would gather shipbuilders and purchase wood from White Harbor and surrounding areas, while Arya and Theon would organise delivery of other ship-building materials from Kings Landing; taking care not to raise suspicions. A sennight later, their deals were done, and they sailed for Kings Landing.
The trip from Eastwatch to White Harbor had been bitterly cold. Autumn winds had come and the snow and ice came with it. The voyage from White Harbor to Kings Landing was entirely different. The weather was much warmer, the days longer, and seas calmer. Instead of being cooped up inside her cabin, Arya could stand on the bow of the ship, facing the wind.
"Are you flying?" Theon asked.
Arya turned to face him. "No, I'm waiting for a storm."
"You'll be waiting for some time. Captain says the weather should be fair all the way."
"I'm not talking about that type of storm." She said, turning to Theon. "We don't know what is happening in the south. "How can we gather people to our cause if we are deaf and blind to our enemies? We need spies."
"Arya, you are only ten and three. How many enemies do you have?"
"Oh, shut up! I'm going inside. I need ale." Arya made towards her cabin.
"Your mother says only one horn." Theon said.
"Fuck my mother! I'll drink as much as I want."
The bickering continued past The Fingers, and into Blackwater Bay. They disembarked the ship and made their way through the mud gate, past the stench of Fishmongers Square, and up toward Visenya's Hill, close to the shop of Tobho Mott, where Gendry worked. They found room and board at The Steel Inn, just off the Street of Steel, where Arya and Theon pretended to share a room as siblings, while Theon was spending his nights in Littlefinger's brothels.
By the time they'd settled in, evening had fallen over King's Landing. Theon and Arya left their chambers for the common room, for food, ale, and the latest gossip. Most of the customers were men, blackened from working in the nearby forges. The smell of sweat, smoke, and leather filled the air. Theon wrinkled his nose in disgust, while Arya basked in it, recalling cherished memories of her final night with Gendry. The large room was dimly lit with wall sconces and candles on the well-worn wooden tables. In one corner was a doorway to the kitchens, where servers scurried in and out, fetching food and ale for their customers.
Theon ordered two bowls of stew, bread, and a pitcher of ale to wash it down. "What do you want to know?"
"First, we need to find out who the king and his hand are."
Arya lowered her head and concentrated on the surrounding chatter. She couldn't see the men she heard, but words were enough to give her an idea of Kings Landing's political landscape. Snippets of multiple conversations surrounded her, many concerning the same topic. A wedding.
"Lucky cunt, she's a bit of alright, is the rose of Highgarden."
"I here she's the most beautiful woman in Westeros."
"I hear Sansa Stark is prettier."
"Didn't she turn the prince down for a northern bastard?"
"Lord Stark made him a Lord."
"Does it matter? One bastard or another, they're all the same. He's probably not a cunt like Joffrey. Word is the Bastard of Winterfell is the greatest swordsman in Westeros. Might be the lass likes a bit of steel."
Arya was surprised Jon's reputation was already common knowledge, even as far south as Kings Landing. She was sure this was a fresh development; she wished she knew where it came from.
"Careful, Lannister ears everywhere. They'll 'ave your tongue out for that."
"Seventy-seven courses I here. How do you eat seventy-seven courses?"
"Rich bastards. That'd feed Flea Bottom for a week."
"Why d'ya think Mace Tyrell was made hand? They only wanted his food and armies. Margaery could be ugly as fuck, but the grain she brings is pretty."
"Best getting his son married off before that fat oaf kicks the bucket."
"Surprised he's not dead already."
"No wonder he's off hunting all the time. Me brother says he fucked off to the Kingswood this morning looking for the white heart."
"More chance of finding rocking horse shit." laughter filled the room at that comment.
Arya beckoned Theon toward her and whispered, "Robert has gone hunting for the white heart. Don't be surprised if a boar gets him. With a little Lannister help." She looked around. "We need to get Gendry out of Kings Landing as quickly as possible. In the morning, we'll place the order for the Myrish glass to be sent to White Harbor. Sansa wants some seeds for the glass gardens, and fabric for Queenscrown."
"I'll send a raven to Dragonstone. They can send the ship. It'll take a sennight." Theon said.
"Good, that gives you time to whore your way through Kings Landing. Are you up to it?"
"You're too young to know about these things."
Arya was surprised by Theon's reticence. He usually bragged about his whoring ways. "I know what happens under the furs. You don't need to worry about corrupting me. Your years too late. I'd worry about me corrupting you." She gulped an entire horn of ale down in one before refilling it. "I don't recommend you drink too much if you're going to be spending your days in bed. You'll need to keep performing, and ale dulls the senses."
Theon scowled. "I know that."
Arya handed him a purse. "There's enough in there for three of Littlefinger's brothels. Can you manage three different whorehouses in one night?"
Theon rolled his eyes. "Easy, I could do four if you like."
"Three is enough. Too many and you'll arouse suspicion." Arya handed Theon a map. Laying it flat on the table, she pointed to the Steel Inn. "This is where we are." Her finger moved to the Street of Silk. "You'll find three of Littlefinger's brothels there. The others are scattered in the upmarket parts of the city." She handed Theon a piece of parchment, which he read. "These are the brothels you'll visit tonight."
Theon nodded. "Alright, I better get going. What are you up to?"
"I'm going to Tobho Mott's shop, to talk about Gendry and steel for Queenscrown." Arya finished her horn of ale and stood up, followed by Theon. "Have fun."
"I will. See you in the morning." Arya said as they left the Inn and went their separate ways.
Tobho Mott's shop stood atop of the Street of Steel, befitting its status as the best in Kings Landing. Made of timber and plaster, Tobho's three-story house was also the largest building on the Street of Steel. Its upper stories towered over the street, while the shop fronted the street. Two stone knights in the shapes of a griffin and a unicorn, suited in red armour guarded the entrance. The ironwood double doors, leading inside, sported an ebony and weirwood carving of a hunting scene.
Arya waited at the high counter, which reached mid-way up her chest. To one side, she saw a thin bald-headed man, with a small beard, who wore a silver chain around his neck. He wore a black velvet cloak, with silver hammers embroidered into the sleeves and a stern expression on his face. The man known as Tobho Mott came from Qohor with the secret knowledge of reworking of Valyrian steel, found nowhere else in the capital.
The sound of a hammer on metal in the background, peaked Arya's interest. She peered over the counter to see the origin of the sound. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Gendry; black-haired, blue eyes, dirty and sweaty. Just how she liked him.
"Ahem."
Tobho Mott turned to see who'd made the noise and frowned at the sight of a small girl. "What can I do you for?"
"I'm here on behalf of Lord Stark."
Tobho walked over to the counter and took in her appearance. "He's sending children to do his work?"
Arya handed Tobho a piece of parchment with the wax seal of House Stark. She saw Gendry briefly glance over toward her, before returning to his work. "I'm Lady Arya Stark. Lord Eddard's daughter." "I believe you have been in communication with my father and prior to that, Lord Jon Arryn, late Hand of the King."
Tobho read the contents of the letter. "You come all alone, milady? Not safe in Kings Landing for a little highborn Lady like you."
"My eldest brother is currently on a northern progress, my eldest sister has just gotten married. My father is warden of the north, and cannot afford to leave the north with autumn winds blowing. I am the eldest Stark child. My companion is my father's ward, Theon Greyjoy."
"Where is he?"
"Asleep. We only disembarked the ship today. I wished to give you this as soon as we arrived." She said.
Tobho stroked his beard and nodded. "Lucky I started a new apprentice two moons ago when I got your father's raven. When are you leaving?"
"We have other business in Kings Landing to attend to. Our ship should be here soon. I'd like to leave in a day or so, it depends upon how long our business takes. Could you introduce me to him?" she asked.
"Gendry!" Tobho called out. Gendry put his hammer down and joined them at the counter. "Remember that letter I told you about, from up north?"
Gendry nodded. "Aye, I do."
"Well, this is Lady Arya Stark. She'll be escorting you to Winterfell."
Gendry's eyes widened in shock. He immediately bowed. "Milady."
"I'm not... you can call me Arya."
Gendry lowered his eyes in deference. "You can call me Gendry."
"Pleased to make you acquaintance, Gendry." She turned to Tobho Mott. "If our ship arrives earlier, we will let you know to make the arrangements."
"Back to work." Tobho said. Gendry, returned to his hammer and his whatever he was working on. Tobho leaned into Arya and lowered his voice. "And the coin?"
"You'll get it when we leave. Five gold dragons, I believe?" she said. "I'd also like to place an order for some materials to be sent to Winterfell. We'll pay for shipment." She handed him over a list.
"Looks like a big job."
"Can you do it?" she asked.
Tobho scratched his beard and nodded. "Ten gold dragons."
Arya started bartering. "Seven gold dragons."
"Nine."
"Eight."
"Eight gold dragons and three silver stags."
Arya grinned and held out her hand for him to shake. "Done!" Tobho took her hand and shook it.
Arya's sparse room contained, two small cots, a table, and two chairs perched around a hearth. The wooden walls blackened from years of dust, dirt, and being alongside the Street of Steel. A south-facing window let in daylight, alongside the smell of forges, shit, and fish. The fire in the hearth had died out, much to Arya's relief. Kings Landing was too warm and suffocating for her liking. A fire, even in autumn, was too much for her winter skin.
Once daylight crept into the room, Arya climbed from her bed. Her stomach rumbled from odours of bread and bacon, wafting through cracks in the floorboards from the downstairs inn. Though Arya barely slept, she never heard Theon return. She was concerned with what she heard in the common room the night before.
King Robert departed the previous morning to hunt for the white hart. If the same events played out and he were attacked by the boar, he'd be back and dead within two days, which wasn't enough time to secure Gendry's safety, should Cersei decide to kill all Robert's bastards. Her other concern was Gendry being around Melisandre. She and Stannis were inhabiting Dragonstone, burning people and desperate for king-blood. She worried Gendry would attract too much attention.
She and a sleepy-looking Theon were breaking their fast in their room when Arya finally decided. "We're not going to Dragonstone! It's not safe."
Theon yawned. "I thought King Stannis would welcome us."
Arya put her plate on the table and paced in front of the hearth, arms behind her back. "King Robert will be dead within days. Stannis will be vying to become King. The red witch will want Gendry. We can't let her anywhere near him. She burns children and wants to leech Gendry's cock. We need to get him out of Kings Landing."
Theon looked as though he was going to be sick. "I've already sent the raven."
"Send another. Tell them there was a change of plan. We need to return to Queenscrown to my sister."
Theon picked up a piece of bacon. "Alright. What did you say to Tobho?"
"That we'd be leaving soon, in the next couple of days."
"Best do some shopping then." Theon got up and stretched.
"I've already placed the order for the steel plating it Tobho's. Eight gold dragons and three silver stags."
"I would've agreed with nine. Do you want to do the shopping? I'm knackered."
Arya sat on her cot and pulled her boots on. "Did you learn anything last night?"
Theon nodded. "Lord Baelish will soon leave for The Vale, but he hasn't resigned as Master of Coin yet. He is marrying your aunt Lysa."
"Seven fucking hells!"
"What is it?" Theon asked.
"It means Olenna is already plotting to kill Joffrey. If the little shit dies before Robert, he'll want my father as hand, not Mace Tyrell. Seven hells, he might try matching me up with Tommen." she said.
"What if Robert dies like you say?" he asked.
"Littlefinger will postpone his trip to the Vale, for the sake of the realm. The wedding will be delayed for three months, then Joffrey will die because Lady Olenna doesn't want her granddaughter married to that cunt of a bastard prince. There are probably other things which would go to shit, but Sansa is the best person to ask, not me. She knows the politics of the south better than I do."
Theon pulled his coat on. "I'll send the raven to Dragonstone and find us a boat for tomorrow."
"I'll order the glass, get the fabric, and let Tobho know we'll be leaving soon." Arya said, closing the door behind her.
Arya spent her day ordering the list of materials Sansa had asked for, getting them at two-thirds the price they were expecting to pay. Myrish glass was ordered and paid for, with promises of larger orders should the quality be as promised. She had made small orders at three different glazieries, to establish the connections.
Once she'd gotten her wares, she returned to the inn and retired to their chambers, where she found Theon snoring on his cot. She collected her satchel, picked up a quill and blank piece of parchment on the table; giving him a list of two brothels and not to wait for her. She left, locking the door behind her. She opened her satchel and pulled out a face. For the first time since she returned, she was going to become No One.
The years separating her and Kings Landing, had left her memories of the city shrouded in childhood grief and darkness. Returning as No One, memories of narrow streets and back alleys where a girl can move unnoticed, came back to her. She passed taverns, inns, and brothels. She saw traders of all wares, different accents and languages, people of all colours from the far off expanses of the world.
She'd chosen the face of a little girl she'd found that morning. The child was dying from evil humours of the chest and could barely breathe. Arya had taken away the child's suffering and taken her face. The little girl was called Elina, Arya was determined to ensure the child's suffering be vindicated.
Arya knew the secret entrances to the Red Keep. These were the places she waited, especially close an alehouse, beside the Iron Gate. There she hid in the shadows, listening to the clamour inside, watching as the children crawled into the Keep unnoticed by passers-by; either visiting Lord Varys, Cersei, Grandmaester Pycelle or Littlefinger, though she suspected most were employed by Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers.
Word was already spreading of the King being involved in an accident, he had yet to return to the Red Keep, but his squire, a boy cousin of the Queen called Lancel Lannister had already returned to notify the Queen of the accident. Arya didn't need to go any further, she knew the outcome; it was too dangerous for Gendry. Were she alone, she would follow the children, but this news gave them only a day to get Gendry out of Kings Landing.
Flea Bottom became a blur. Arya ran as fast as she could while still keeping to the shadows. She needed to find the Street of Steel and tell Tobho Mott they were leaving on the morrow.
The Sept of Baelor loomed ahead, a place she'd tried to avoid during her time here, father is alive, father is alive, she reminded herself as she passed the statue of Baelor the Blessed, before turning left and toward the top of the Street of Steel. She stopped, caught her breath and smoothed her hair before approaching the shop.
Arya stood at the counter, awaiting Tobho to acknowledge her presence, but his head was in his ledgers.
"Ahem."
Tobho turned his head. "Lady Arya." he said, approaching the counter. "How can I help?"
"Here, on the morrow, first light." She replied. "You'll get your coin."
Tobho bowed his head. "Nice doing business with you milady. If Lord Stark needs anything..."
"I'll tell him where to look. Winterfell may need a man of your talents." she nodded her head at the man, turned on her heel and left for the inn.
Theon was asleep in one of the chairs at beside the hearth, when she returned to their chambers. His head lolled to one side and his mouth wide open, snoring. She kicked his leg to wake him.
Theon screwed his eyes up. "Ow... What? Arya? What time is it?"
"It's getting late. Robert had had a hunting accident. We need to get Gendry out of Kings Landing. Could you book us passage on a ship?" she asked.
"I found a ship bound for White Harbor, sailing tomorrow afternoon. The Grey Lady, it's called. The captain said we could book passage for three."
"Did you book it?" she asked. Theon shook his head.
"He said we only need to turn up. Most don't book on his ship."
"No whoring tonight. We leave at first light." Arya said.
Theon nodded in agreement. "Best eat and get an early night."
They were just about to leave the room when they heard the bells tolling. Arya turned to Theon. "King Robert is dead."