AN: If anyone was expecting an Arya POV, don't worry, that'll be the very next chapter.
Wilmarina flew through the evening sky. A few people on the ground looked up and pointed, but she paid them little mind. Her goal was elsewhere.
Soon enough, the succubus reached the Great Pyramid. She spotted an open window on the fifth level's north side, which was here Daenerys had requested her to land. She therefore flew in through the window and landed softly on a carpeted floor.
The room inside was a guest room with a double bed, a small table, a chair and assorted other furniture. There were quite a few people inside: Daenerys, Drogon, Barristan, Tyrion, Jorah and a small girl, the last of whom was lying in the bed. As a result, the room was quite cramped.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Daenerys said. "This is Arya Stark."
"I can introduce myself," the girl said, sounding a little annoyed. Her Valyrian sounded accented to Wilmarina's ears, suggesting she'd picked up the language in a far-off region.
Wilmarina turned towards Arya. Due to her own lack of vision, she couldn't see features like the girl's hair or eye colour. However, her perception of mana signatures meant she could still "see" the girl's wary expression, as well as the trembling of her body. And she could hear the girl's racing heartbeat.
"My name is Wilmarina," Wilmarina said gently, dropping to one knee to be at eye level with Arya. "Have you heard about me?"
Arya bit her lower lip for a moment. "Y-Yes. You're a… succubus? And you've been helping the people of this city in many ways. You and your three daughters… but I haven't seen them yet."
"That's right, and I've been called here to examine your health, and treat any illnesses or injuries you might have."
"But why? I just… I just tried to kill your queen, why would you help me?"
From her size and voice, Arya was probably around ten or eleven years of age. And from her words, she hadn't had anyone looking out for her in a long time. The thought filled Wilmarina with a quiet fury.
"Lady Arya, it's clear that you did not attack Queen Daenerys out of your own will," Barristan said. He was using the Common Tongue, so Wilmarina had to think about each word to understand him. "Who put you up to this? Are your loved ones being threatened, or—"
"That's none of your business!" Arya snapped, also in the Common Tongue. "In the first place, I…" her voice turned weaker. "I'm not Arya Stark… I'm not meant to have a name…"
"Forgive me, but I must call that a lie, Lady Arya," Tyrion said. "It has been a couple of years since we last met, but I recognise you quite clearly, as does Ser Barristan."
Arya looked away. It was clear that she didn't trust anyone else.
Daenerys knelt as well. "Lady Arya, just why would you attack me?" she asked. "Have I ever wronged you or your family?"
Wilmarina recalled that Daenerys' late father had murdered some of Arya's family, and that her brother had either kidnapped or eloped with Arya's aunt. However, even if Arya had a grudge against House Targaryen for this, it was absurd for a young girl from a noble family to travel to another continent to assassinate a queen.
"She was using some kind of magic to control a spider," Drogon said in Valyrian. "Ask her how she learned it. Magic isn't common in the Sunset Kingdoms, is it?"
"It certainly is not," Barristan said. Switching to the Common Tongue, he said, "Lady Arya, just how did you acquire such a skill?"
Arya said nothing.
"Before anything else, I would like to examine you," Wilmarina said. "Lady Arya, you have my word that I mean no harm to you. All you would need to do is lie still while I lay one hand on you."
Arya glanced towards the window, clearly weighing up her chances of escaping. With all the trained fighters in the room, a couple of them closer to the window than she was, those chances were nonexistent.
"...Fine," Arya said, so quietly that it was almost a whisper.
Wilmarina went to the side of the bed and placed a hand on Arya's head. The girl flinched from her touch. It was possible she'd been sexually abused in the past.
By casting her usual spell for inspecting a person's body, Wilmarina quickly determined that Arya was mostly healthy aside from minor malnutrition. Presumably, she'd been surviving in Meereen by stealing or begging, limiting her dietary options. Additionally, she had an interesting development of muscles, the sort only seen in people who'd trained to fight with a melee weapon.
The spell also allowed Wilmarina to detect any magical influences on the target, such as mind control—this was one of the reasons Daenerys had called for her and not for a normal healer. Wilmarina couldn't see any such influences on Arya, however.
"You are a little malnourished, but otherwise healthy," Wilmarina said as she took her hand away. "A proper diet should solve that."
"That's good to hear," Daenerys said. "Now, Lady Arya—"
"I'm no lady!" Arya protested. "House Stark is ruined, most of my family's dead, because of his family!"
That last part was emphasised by Arya pointing at Tyrion, whose face twisted in shame and guilt.
"Lady Arya… there is no apologising for such a thing," Tyrion said. "If it provides you any relief, I can tell you that my father, the architect behind the Red Wedding is dead. And my nephew, who ordered your father's execution, died before that."
"I know, I heard about it in Braavos," Arya said bitterly. "There's even a play about it." After saying this, she quickly covered her mouth.
"Braavos?" Barristan said. "You managed to reach Braavos, my lady?"
"I spent the first few years of my life in Braavos," Daenerys said. "Lady Arya, where did you live during your time there? And how did you get there in the first place?"
Arya fell silent again. She was presumably cursing herself for letting that information slip.
"But if you don't want to tell us now, we can wait until later," Daenerys said. "You may stay in this room. I'm afraid I'll have to leave guards at the door, but if you need anything, you may simply inform the guards."
"That… it doesn't make any sense," Arya said, shaking her head. "I tried to kill you. My father helped overthrow yours."
"And from what I've recently learned… my father provoked that rebellion," Daenerys said. "Furthermore, I too understand what it's like to live in exile, with no parents to keep you safe… I have no desire to add to your suffering."
Arya looked down at herself. That was an expected reaction. What Wilmarina did not expect was for Tyrion to suddenly gasp, causing everyone else to look at him.
"...Lord Tyrion?" Daenerys said.
"I-I-It's nothing," Tyrion said. "More importantly, Your Grace, you have a very good point! Yes, we should all give Lady Arya time, time for her to adjust!"
There was clearly something strange happening here. Wilmarina knew Tyrion's secret about his former wife Tysha, but that wouldn't explain his current behaviour.
"...Don't need it," Arya said. "I'll just say it… I'm part of the Faceless Men. Well, just an acolyte… but that's why I'm here. Someone, a lord from Slaver's Bay, put out a contract on you, Your Grace, so they sent me to kill you."
That caused a stir among the others in the room.
"How dangerous are these Faceless Men?" Wilmarina asked. "I've heard of them being a secretive group of assassins, but little else."
"It's said that they never fail to kill a target," Daenerys replied. "Some whisper that they employ sorcery in their assassinations."
Drogon snorted. "Clearly they never went after a target protected by dragons, until today."
"But what's undeniably true is that they are effective," Tyrion said. "Which makes me wonder why they sent a girl of eleven after such a well-protected target. Lady Arya, did the Faceless Men have no one else they could send on this mission?"
"I… I'm not sure," Arya admitted. "Even when I was there, at their temple, I didn't understand a lot of what they do…"
Wilmarina now wondered if Arya had been sent with the intention of her failing. There seemed to be no other reasonable explanation.
"Moving on to another topic, where did you learn how to control that spider?" Daenerys asked.
Arya bit her lip again. This seemed to be a secret she was particularly reluctant to reveal.
"...I may be able to shed some light on that, Daenerys," Jorah said. "In the North of Westeros, there are legends of skinchangers, men with the ability to enter the minds of animals and control them. Usually beasts or birds… this is my first time hearing that it could be done with something as lowly as a spider. It's believed that no more skinchangers still exist…" He looked at Drogon. "But it seems many legends have become reality again nowadays."
"Skinchangers… yes, I've read about them in a few books," Tyrion said. "Lady Arya, is that the sort of ability you possess?"
Arya still kept her mouth shut. However, she'd conspicuously flinched when Jorah was giving his explanation.
"We can talk about that more at a later time," Barristan said gently. "For now… Lady Arya, you said that most of your family is dead. Who… still lives?"
Arya wrung her hands nervously. Eventually, she opened her mouth and whispered, "The only one I know about, is Jon…"
"Jon Snow, your half-brother?" Tyrion said. "I actually talked to him quite a bit, having accompanied him to the Wall. Did he decide to join the Night's Watch after all?"
Arya nodded.
"Forgive me, but I know little of the Wall or the Night's Watch," Wilmarina said.
"The Wall is a colossal barrier of ice that marks the northern border of Westeros," Tyrion explained. "The Night's Watch is an organisation that mans the Wall. They're mostly composed of criminals, but occasionally a nobleman joins voluntarily… such as her brother."
"But I couldn't go there," Arya said. "No ship wanted to go there. And I couldn't stay in Westeros… wasn't safe."
Her only relative was among criminals, and she still would have gone to him if she had the chance… Wilmarina thought. How desperate was she?
"House Stark once ruled the North, from what I've been told," Wilmarina said. "Who rules the North now?"
"House Bolton," Tyrion said. "One of the two houses to betray the Starks… and historical rivals to them, I should add. Lady Arya, I can see why you had to flee."
"I'm not going to stay away from Westeros forever," Arya said venomously. "One day, when I have the skills, I'm going back, and I'm going to kill them all."
That shocked Wilmarina and everyone else in the room. These words would have been foreboding if spoken by an adult, but Arya was just a girl of eleven.
"My lady…" Barristan said, sounding physically pained. "Surely you don't mean…"
"Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei," Arya said, reciting the names coldly and without any hesitation. "If I knew the Boltons' and Freys' names, they'd be on the list too. I won't rest until they're all dead."
Wilmarina was tempted to hug the girl. And from the way Daenerys' arms twitched, she felt the same way… perhaps she only refrained because Arya had tried to kill her not one hour before.
"...My lady," Jorah said. "I am the last person who should be saying this… but your family would not want you to do this."
"I must apologise to you, Lady Arya," Barristan said. "The truth is, I was in the throne room that day, the day your father announced Robert's will. I stood by as Queen Cersei spat on tradition and tore up that will… had I decided to fight for your father instead, perhaps he might still be alive."
"You merely did your duty, ser" Tyrion said. "The blame belongs to my vicious idiot of a nephew, and my treacherous bitch of a sister. You could also blame individuals such as Littlefinger and Janos Slynt—Stark tried to get them on his side, but they betrayed him, and that contributed to his death as well."
"Littlefinger… wasn't that the Master of Coin's nickname?" Arya said, frowning.
"Yes… it's meant as an insult, since the lands of his family are just one portion of a region called—"
"That doesn't matter, what's his actual name!?"
Tyrion flinched at the sudden shout. "P-Petyr Baelish…"
"Petyr Baelish… Janos Slynt…" Arya repeated. "That's two more…" She then looked at Tyrion intently. "Also… where's Sansa now?"
"All I can say is that I do not know," Tyrion replied, sounding both pained and sincere. "You see—"
"DON'T LIE!" Arya shouted. She tried to jump out of the bed and onto Tyrion, only being stopped by Drogon putting a wing in her way. "SHE GOT FORCED TO MARRY YOU! I HEARD ABOUT IT!"
"She was, and after Joffrey was poisoned, she disappeared!" Tyrion shouted back. "I don't know if she killed him, or if she just used that chaos as an opportunity to flee!" He breathed heavily for a few moments. "And, just to clear up any confusion, I did not consummate the marriage. I am many things, but I would not force myself on a girl of thirteen, even if my family hadn't caused the deaths of hers."
It says something about this world that that is considered an act of virtue, Wilmarina thought.
Arya continued looking, presumably glaring at Tyrion. "Don't lie, where is she!?"
"I! Don't! KNOW!" Tyrion said, throwing his hands in the air. "I was thrown into a cell afterwards, falsely accused of poisoning Joffrey! I have not the slightest idea where she could've gone!"
"Lower your voices," Daenerys said firmly. "Lady Arya, I consider myself reasonably adept at noticing when someone is telling the truth or not. Wilmarina, our Royal Sorceress, is far more adept in this area. And we believe Lord Tyrion is telling the truth about your sister."
Wilmarina was tempted to offer to find Arya's sister for her—and any other kin she might have, if they still lived. It would be a simple matter of using a cutting of Arya's hair as a subject in a tracking spell.
But there are already many people in Meereen who I could be helping. I limit myself since I am but one person, with a limited amount of time and energy to spend… Also, any kin of Arya would most likely be in Westeros. I will never leave my daughters for such a long journey.
"For now, I am going to have dinner brought here for you," Daenerys continued. "You need to get some proper food in you, and a good night's sleep—oh, and before the latter, I'll have a tub of warm water brought here so you might bathe."
"I don't need… it's too much," Arya said, sounding both confused and suspicious.
"When you're shown hospitality, it's normal to thank your host," Drogon said bluntly.
"Drogon!" Daenerys protested. "There's no need for that!"
"Tha… Tha… Thank you…" Arya said weakly. "Your Grace…"
Daenerys gave an order to a servant waiting outside the door, then turned back to Arya. "Do you have any other questions for us? Is there anything you'd like to know?"
Arya shook her head. Wilmarina suspected she was still having trouble processing all this generosity after her failed assassination.
"Then we will give you some time alone," Daenerys said. "I hope you can use this time to relax. And, once again, please ask the guards if you need anything."
The adults in the room began filing out. But before Wilmarina could leave, Arya called out.
"Wait! La—er, um, Royal Sorceress Wilmarina! I have a question for you!"
Wilmarina looked back at the girl, who was fidgeting nervously.
"C-C-Can I ask you, in private…?" Arya added quietly.
Wilmarina looked at Daenerys and the others, who nodded and walked away. Then she closed the door and approached the bed again.
"R-Royal Sorceress Wilmarina…" Arya said, having difficulty meeting her eyes. "You heal many people in Meereen, every day. And… I heard that you can't bring back… the dead…"
"That's correct," Wilmarina said. "There's two reasons for it. First, it requires a skill I never learned. Second, it requires asking the god of death to return the dead soul… even in the place I come from, there is no guarantee of said god agreeing. And I don't know if the god of death here is the same being."
"Before… Before coming here, I was part of a group worshipping the god of death. The Many-Faced God, they call him. They saw all gods of death in the world are just faces of his… but that doesn't matter." Arya took a deep breath. "Before… I mean, before joining them, back when I was still in Westeros… I met a man who'd been brought back from the dead."
Wilmarina blinked in surprise. From everything she'd seen so far, the magic of this world was far less developed than that in her world.
"This can't be widespread… or your society would be very different. Who was this man, and how was he brought back? Please tell me everything you know."
"Beric Dondarrion… some call him the Lightning Lord, since his sigil is a lightning bolt," Arya replied, now with a hint of hope in her voice. "One of his friends, he was a red priest, I think his name was Thoros."
Hearing about a red priest brought back unpleasant memories for Wilmarina. Still, she kept those hidden and continued listening.
"Beric had already died five times, I saw him die a sixth time, right in front of me… but Thoros could keep bringing him back. It's thanks to the power of the red god, they told me… It wasn't perfect, Beric kept all his wounds…" Arya began pointing at various parts of her body. "One of his eyes is gone, his head's caved in, his neck is marked—because he was hanged once—and his chest is cut open." Those last words were accompanied by Arya clenching her fists. "His memory isn't perfect, either. But still! He's alive, he can move around, he can talk, he can fight!"
"...This is my first time hearing of such magic," Wilmarina said eventually. "But… I'm sorry, but even after knowing this information, I have no idea how to replicate it. Also, from what you've told me, this Beric now lives a half-life, filled with suffering. I think few people would want to be brought back to such a life."
Arya rubbed the sleeve of one arm across her face. She sounded like she was doing her best not to descend into weeping.
"Is there really nothing you can do…?"
Wilmarina lowered her head. "Since coming to Meereen… I've received this request countless times. People have asked me to revive their children, siblings, spouses, parents, cousins, friends… Each and every time, I have had to disappoint them. I'm sorry, Arya."
"Even if… Even if I offered up myself…?"
"None of my magic uses sacrifices," Wilmarina said firmly—perhaps a bit too firmly, based on how Arya flinched. "I cannot bring back your loved ones. And… while I've never met them, if they could see you now, I think they'd want you to live your own life, not try to exchange it for theirs."
Arya laughed bitterly. "I know. I'm not stupid… but I can't. The people who killed them… most of them are still alive. It's not fair that they're alive, while Father, Mother, Robb, Bran, and Rickon are all dead… It's not fair."
Arya curled the fingers of her left hand and thrust it out. It was the action that an assassin might perform while holding a dagger. And while her motion was slightly clumsy, Wilmarina could tell that there was no hesitation in it.
"Until every single one of them is dead, I won't stop. I can't sto—HUH!?"
Wilmarina had wrapped her arms around Arya. The human girl struggled in her grasp, although Wilmarina could only "see" this vaguely, she could not feel it.
"I know what it's like to want revenge," Wilmarina said softly. "To want someone dead, no matter the cost to yourself… But you've said it yourself, your brother Jon is still alive. You should go to him, before it's too late…"
Arya stopped struggling. She rested her head on Wilmarina's shoulder, which soon became wet with tears.
When was the last time she was allowed to cry? To show her true feelings at all?
"Will I… Will I ever see Jon again…?" Arya sobbed. "Will he… accept me, after everything that's… happened…?"
"You'll see him again, the queen and I will make sure of it," Wilmarina vowed. "And as for the second part… let me tell you something about myself. In the past, I killed many people, not all of whom were deserving of it."
Wilmarina recalled the faces of dozens. The eldest was a mindflayer sorceress who'd been over sixty, and the most difficult opponent that Wilmarina had ever overcome. The youngest were monster children below ten years of age.
"I feared… I feared that my eventual husband would never accept me, with all the blood on my hands," Wilmarina said. She could have mentioned her eventual wife as well, but it would be best not to confuse Arya with too much detail. "Yet he did, in the end, and we found happiness together. It's a different kind of relationship, but it's love nonetheless. I'm sure Jon would accept you, if only he could see you again."
Wilmarina moved away from Arya, though she continued to hold one of the girl's hands. Using her free hand, she picked up a cloth and wiped away her tears.
"Why don't you tell me about Jon, and what you remember of him?" Wilmarina suggested. "In exchange, I can tell you more about myself."
Arya sniffed. After some hesitation, she began to talk.
"Jon… he has the same father as me, but his mother… I don't know who she was, Father never said. But he was still my brother. I have.. h-had… four brothers, but he was the best of them. He saw me for how I really am, he understood me…"
For almost half an hour, Wilmarina talked with the lonely girl. She learned about not just Jon but the rest of Arya's family, as well as many of the servants of House Stark—it seemed Arya was much more casual with the smallfolk than typical for nobility. Eventually, Arya became comfortable enough to talk about how she'd come to Braavos and begun training training as a Faceless Man.
"...After I left the Hound, I reached the town and tried to find a ship to the Wall. I met this captain who said nobody would want to go to the Wall, said there was only 'ice and war and pirates' there. But it was a Braavosi ship, and when I showed him Jaqen's coin, he agreed right away to take me to Braavos."
"The Faceless Men must have considerable influence," Wilmarina said. Privately, she was thinking of ways to improve her manse's security even more.
Arya nodded. "I made it to Braavos. I found their temple… it's called the House of Black and White. They let me join…"
Wilmarina suppressed an urge to vomit as she heard about how Arya was trained to spy on people, to lie convincingly, to act while blind, to kill without hesitation, to forget her former self—after all, an ideal assassin didn't need a personality. And Arya had yet to even learn all of the Faceless Men's secret skills, such as their unique magic for stealing people's faces.
"And the kindly man told me to come here," Arya continued. "When I was sailing here, I kept thinking about how I could possibly kill Queen Daenerys. I'd never tried killing someone as protected as a queen before. I kept thinking and thinking… and kept slipping into animals' heads by accident."
"Is this when you realised you could control them, not just see through their eyes?"
"Yes. It was almost scary at first… but then I thought that this could be useful. I practised again and again, with rats at first, then I worked out how to do it to cockroaches." Arya made a face. "Skinchanging into bugs is nasty… they think so differently, and they can hardly see at all, but they taste everything, even what they crawl on!"
Both Wilmarina and Arya giggled. It was a rare moment of levity in a serious conversation.
"The ship reached New Ghis, and I got off. I wasn't sure how to travel to Meereen from there… until the dragons arrived." Arya's voice became filled with awe. "It was my first time seeing dragons… and dragons with the bodies of women. I heard later that was thanks to you?"
Wilmarina was already dreading what would be asked next. Still, she answered, "That's correct."
"How did that happen?"
"That is a secret I refuse to share," Wilmarina said firmly. "That's all I'll say on the matter."
If she were to reveal that it had been achieved by injecting succubus mana into the dragons, then Arya would almost certainly ask about the effects of injecting succubus mana into a human. And while monsterising Arya would make the poor girl much better equipped to survive in this harsh world, Wilmarina refused to do it except in emergencies.
"A-Alright…" Arya said, though she still sounded curious. "Anyway, after the dragons, it wasn't long before ships came to New Ghis. I sneaked onto a ship, and that's how I reached Meereen."
"How long have you been staying in Meereen?" Wilmarina asked.
"Four days… This city has been a great surprise for me. Back in Tyrosh and New Ghis, I heard stories about it being a 'den of demons', where people are eaten, and used as sacrifices… but it's nothing like that. I haven't seen anyone here who's starving, or sick enough to die, or stealing so they can live… Everyone says it's thanks to you."
"I can only claim partial responsibility," Wilmarina said. "Many things, like the improved crops and sewerage system, are the work of my daughters."
"Still, it's better than any place I've been to before," Arya said. "I looked and looked, but Meereen doesn't have any poor districts, nothing like Flea Bottom in King's Landing, or Ragman's Harbor in Braavos. It's the best city I've ever seen… better than any city ruled by people."
That made Wilmarina's face twitch. She'd heard this argument a hundred times before—monster rule over humans being superior to humans ruling themselves—and it was always annoying to hear.
"Meereen is still ruled by humans," Wilmarina pointed out. "My daughters and I provide assistance, but we don't tell them what to do. Meereen's current state is partly due to the good leadership by Queen Daenerys, King Hizdahr and their advisers."
"But why haven't you tried to be queen?" Arya asked. "You could be even better at it. I've been listening to what people on the streets say, and most of them think you'd be better than Queen Daenerys."
"I do not want to be any kind of leader," Wilmarina said, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. "What I want is to return home and return to a peaceful life with my family."
Wilmarina wondered if Arya would keep persisting. Perhaps she'd think that by flattering Wilmarina, she could get the succubus to help in her revenge quest.
"...I think I understand," Arya said quietly. "It reminds me of… of my father."
Arya began to tremble, almost imperceptibly. It was clear that she was reliving painful memories.
"You don't need to speak of this if you don't wish to," Wilmarina said. "In fact, I can leave now if you'd like to re—"
"It's fine, I'm not a baby!" Arya said. "I said… it's kind of like my father. He was in two wars: he helped overthrow a mad king, then beat the Greyjoys back to their islands. But he didn't try to… to become king himself, or ask for any more power. Even when King Robert came to Winterfell, asked him to be his Hand, Father didn't really want the position… he wanted… to stay with us… with his family…"
Left unsaid was that if Eddard Stark had stayed with his family, he might still be alive and Arya might not be an orphan. Of course, refusing a request from a king was not so simple a matter as that.
"I… am honoured to be compared to your father," Wilmarina said uncertainly. "I've heard little of him, but Ser Barristan once described him as the most noble man in Westeros."
Arya gripped the edge of her blanket so tightly that it was a wonder she hadn't torn it. Wilmarina felt concerned, so concerned that she was considering casting a very weak sleep spell on the girl, just to calm her down.
"He was…" Arya said. Her hands slowly relaxed. "And now he's dead. I have to accept that…" She cleared her throat. "Anyway… thank you, for coming here, Royal Sorceress. For healing me, and talking to me…"
"I was simply responding to a request," Wilmarina said. She glanced briefly at the door. "Your dinner has arrived now, so I'll leave you be. As the queen already said, please don't hesitate to ask if you need anything… Oh, and there's one thing I ought to do."
Wilmarina went to the wall to the right side of the window. She used one finger to trace out a certain rune on the wall, which glowed briefly with blue light before fading back to nothing.
"I've just altered my defensive enchantments on the Great Pyramid," Wilmarina explained. "I assume you've tried spying inside this pyramid before, only to find it didn't work?"
Arya let out a surprised "Eep!", showing that Wilmarina's assumption was correct.
"Don't worry, I don't blame you for trying… but I do ask that you not try it again." Wilmarina gestured towards the window. "But you may use your ability to connect to animals outside the pyramid—that's what I've just altered the enchantments to allow. Just don't try to spy in the manse where my family and I are currently staying."
"I-I won't!" Arya replied, a little fearfully.
Now feeling a little guilty, Wilmarina said, "Then this is all for today. Farewell, Arya of House Stark."
Wilmarina walked to the door and opened it to reveal a servant who'd been waiting there for quite a while, a tray laden with food in his hands. She thanked him for his patience and said he could drop the dinner off, then she left the room via the window.
One of many children left alone, through both political machinations and war… Wilmarina thought. Though her story manages to be even more horrific than the average. More than once, she's come into contact with people who'd kill, rape or torture her without a moment's hesitation… and survived, practically unscathed. At least in a physical sense… her mind is a different story. I can only hope that staying here will help her move on from her obsession with vengeance…
Occupied with her own thoughts, Wilmarina hardly even noticed the journey back home, which seemed to pass in no time at all. She only broke out of this when she arrived back at the manse and heard the questions in familiar voices.
"Mom, is she okay?"
"How old is this girl? From what you said before, Mother, she sounded very young…"
"Auntie Mary, is she safe? Is anyone… angry at her for… trying to kill the queen?"
"It turns out that her name is Arya Stark, and she's originally from the western continent of Westeros," Wilmarina said. She briefly touched the door behind her, just to confirm the defensive enchantments were intact. "She's physically okay, and I haven't noticed anyone being angry at her. Rather, most just seem shocked that an eleven-year-old girl tried to become an assassin."
As expected, that elicited gasps and horrified expressions from the three younger monsters.
"Who the hell put her up to this!?" Amelia asked. "Did… Did someone hold her family hostage, or…"
"Let's all sit down first, before I tell you the rest."
Wilmarina and the others moved to the dining room and sat in the many chairs. There was a plate of half-eaten food and a mug of grape juice in front of Wilmarina—she'd been called out in the middle of dinner and so had yet to finish her meal. Fortunately, due to her sudden departure, a spell for preserving heat had been cast on the food.
In between bites, Wilmarina said, "To start with, Amelia, Arya didn't do this because of any hostages. Rather… well, it's a sad story. She has almost no family left, and that's what's driven her here, so far from her home…"
"How… How did she lose her family?" Elise asked. She was nervously holding hands with two of her husbands, and would no doubt be clinging to Quhuru as well if the seating arrangement allowed it.
"Originally, Arya, her sister and her father were living in Westeros' capital. Arya's father was friend and adviser to the king, her sister was betrothed to the crown prince… but the queen hated them, and the crown prince was actually a cruel tyrant. The king died—Arya thinks he was assassinated—and the crown prince inherited the throne. Arya's father was accused of treason and later executed." Via decapitation and with Arya watching, though Wilmarina opted not to mention those grisly details. "Arya managed to escape, but her sister remained in the capital, being kept as a hostage."
"All that happened… when she was even younger?" Colette said. "Hold on, how long ago did this happen?"
"I think you've all heard of Westeros' War of the Five Kings by now, correct?" Wilmarina said. "As I understand, that began around two years ago, and was triggered partly because of the death of Arya's father."
"Meaning she was around nine?" Alatto said, raising an eyebrow. "She not only survived that war, but made it all the way to Essos?"
"She told me was helped by others, without whom she might have died a dozen times over," Wilmarina said. "And, rather unusually for her society, she was already being trained to fight prior to the war. Another thing that helped her… survive…"
Wilmarina looked down at the remnants of her meal. Being reminded of that particular event had abruptly robbed her of her appetite.
"Mom?" "Mother?" "Auntie Mary?"
"...The possibility is low," Wilmarina said, barely louder than a whisper. "Almost nonexistent. But I pray that you girls never have to kill an unarmed servant to protect yourselves…"
That made the younger monsters even more horrified. After all, Wilmarina and the other parents—and the entire society they lived in—hadn't prepared them for the possibility of killing at all. It was something they'd tried to protect those girls from.
"How—wait, that's just—what the hell!?" Amelia slapped her own cheeks with both hands, presumably to help focus her thoughts. "I thought—we all thought she, Arya, was—I don't know, an innocent girl forced into all this. And you're saying she's already killed someone!?"
"...Several someones, she claims," Wilmarina said. And she hadn't even mentioned the time Arya had used favours from a mysterious assassin to kill more people. "With all that in mind, it's not surprising that she eventually chose to become an assassin… though that's not all there is to the story. I mentioned how her father was executed and her sister held hostage. Well, Arya tried to reunite with the rest of her family. But her mother and oldest brother were murdered—betrayed by their own allies at a wedding, apparently. And two of her other brothers should have been safe in the family castle… but that castle was taken over by pirates, sacked, and her brothers killed."
In the past, Wilmarina would never have talked about such things with her daughters. She was able to do this now because they'd already heard the stories of their ex-slave guests, heard about the suffering that people could inflict on one another.
"Arya has one brother left, and as for her sister, it's said that she's gone missing… possibly after assassinating the cruel king mentioned earlier. And so Arya has crossed the sea, and she's joined a cult of assassins. She hopes to gain skills that will let her take revenge on all those who've harmed her family."
There was silence for a few moments. The occupants of this room included monsters who'd been summoned into an army camp of slavers by a ritual fuelled by human sacrifice, Unsullied who'd been trained since childhood to be unthinking weapons, and bed slaves who'd similarly been trained to be living sex toys. Even so, everyone was having difficulty processing what they'd heard.
"...Sometimes, I dreamed about vengeance on those who took my family, split us up, and made me… what I am," Errol said eventually. "I gave up all hope of that years ago…"
"All of us who've lived in slavery have had such thoughts, probably," Rego said. "But even for those who learned to fight… we abandoned our hopes."
"You wouldn't be here if you hadn't," Elise said. She was clearly trying to sound reassuring, though her own shock undermined the effect.
"And this Arya Stark kept her hopes of vengeance?" Merrabor said. "Perhaps she is braver than any of us… but a child should never have to do such things. Had Mhysa not been unusually merciful, then Arya would have died today."
"Nobody should," Wilmarina agreed. "For now, I think Queen Daenerys plans to keep Arya here in Meereen as an honoured guest. I'm not sure how long it will take for the girl to recover, but spending time away from that assassin cult would be a good way to start."
Amelia raised one trembling hand. "Does… Does the queen plan on going back to Westeros and bringing Arya along? Isn't Westeros meant to be her homeland as well?"
Hearing that reminded Wilmarina of the multiple arguments she'd had while rescuing Daenerys. The young queen had been so insistent that Westeros was her birthright, and she'd repeatedly tried to convince Wilmarina to help her take it back.
But faced with Wilmarina's refusals, Daenerys had eventually been pressured into admitting she had no actual memories of Westeros, having been taken from there while still a baby. The dream of taking back Westeros was actually the dream of her deceased brother Viserys. And when Wilmarina had later spoken to Barristan, he'd admitted that Daenerys' father and eldest brother had incited the rebellion against their dynasty.
However, Wilmarina wasn't here to discuss the rightful ruler of a distant continent. She therefore said, "Perhaps she will. I'll ask her about her plans tomorrow. But as for us, the hour is late. I think it's time we began preparing for bed."
They all filed out of the room. Elise and Colette left while accompanied by their husbands—Wilmarina could easily sympathise with that, having more than once clung to Elt and Fran while coping with stress.
Wilmarina would have gone off on her own, planning to have a bath before retiring to her room, but then Amelia tugged on her sleeve.
"Mom… can we talk?"
"Of course, Amelia. What is it?"
Amelia looked around the dining room, which was now empty of everyone except the two of them. "It's not like I have more questions about Arya," she said. "I just… I realised something, after you told us about what happened to her."
Wilmarina had an inkling of what her elder daughter would say next. However, she decided to remain silent.
"You've been working so hard to keep us safe," Amelia said. She tried looking at Wilmarina but her eyes kept flitting away, a sign of her nervousness. "Putting up all those spells on this building, and when it got… invaded… you ramped it up even more."
"And I hardly ever let you, or Elise, or Colette step foot outside…" Wilmarina said. "I'm sorry—"
"You don't have to be sorry about that!" Amelia said, grabbing Wilmarina by the shoulders. "I mean, I miss going outside, but I know how scary it can be outside, too!"
"Still, it's not healthy to be inside all day, every day," Wilmarina said. "I'll try to find more opportunities for you girls to go out."
"Thanks, but you shouldn't push yourself, Mom," Amelia said. "You're already working way too hard for us…"
Suddenly, Wilmarina was enveloped in warmth—Amelia had just closed in to hug her tightly, using arms and wings and tail.
"Thanks for protecting us… for not letting us turn out like Arya…"
Wilmarina returned the hug, also allowing her own body to relax.
"I'm your mother, after all…"