When a Wolf Wants a Dragon

by Dithemo

Summary:

After killing the bigger part of House Frey, Arya Stark travels South to King's Landing, to finally cross Cersei Lannister's name from her list. Simply travelling there is already hard enough as it is, though, so actually getting close enough to kill the Queen might not be as easy as she hopes. Perhaps what Arya needs most right now is the help of a dragon.

Notes:

This story is set at the beginning of season 7, with a few important differences:
- Arya does not know about her siblings being safe in Winterfell
- Jon Snow has not (yet) gone to Dragonstone and met with the Queen
This will be a multichapter fic, so there will most likely be more differences, but these should be the most important ones to note before reading.
Enjoy!

Chapter 1: South

The air didn’t smell of death as much anymore.

A cold wind was blowing, rustling the leaves of the trees. Despite the cold that had set in, the Kingsroad seemed full of people now.

Very different from last time, when it had seemed that death and destruction littered every road they passed.

Then again, perhaps it was the presence of the Hound back then, which had made the air smell as bad.

Arya looked up as a merchant’s cart passed her.

Another one going North, she thought, checking out the man’s goods without being noticed, the Boltons must be doing alright.

There was a slight twinge in her chest when she thought about the Boltons, holding Winterfell. She considered turning around and going back, but the thought passed as quickly as it came.

Her family was dead, only Jon was (hopefully) still alive, fighting off Wildlings and whatever else at the Wall.

No, there was nothing left for the assassin up North.

And besides, she thought, a dark grin appearing on her face that made the curious look the merchant was throwing her grow fearful, the Twins might not be so eager to let strangers through anymore…

By the time Arya snapped out of her cheerful memories of dead men sprawled out on the floor where her mother and brother had been killed, the cart had already long passed, making her lose her chance to grab some food from a loose bag she’d been eyeing.

Damnit, she cursed at herself, looking around to see if she should try and catch up with the merchant.

After a moment of consideration she let go of the idea though. She could easily kill the man and take whatever she wanted, but killing him wouldn’t bring her any joy.

The God of Death is owed a few names… But his is not on the list…

 The young assassin led her horse onward, her eyes drifting across the scenery.

She had been here before, she was sure of it. She just wasn’t entirely certain who had been with her at the time… The Hound, the Brotherhood, …?

It was only when she came upon a familiar building at the crossroads that she remembered.

Of course.

Arya wasn’t sure if the boy she had left here would still be around, or alive for that matter, but despite everything they had been through when they were younger, the thought of seeing him again didn’t incite the kind of big emotion inside her that it should.

She entered the Crossroads Inn, ignoring the odd looks the rowdy men were giving her, and sat down at a table.

The girl already knew she looked strange to them, with her pulled-back hair and man’s leather clothes, but she blocked out their stares and instead kept herself quiet, trying to listen in on their conversations.

“They say her dragons are bigger than Aegon’s!” her ears immediately perked up at the mention of dragons.

Talking about the Targaryen again, Arya knew. It had been the most talked about subject everywhere she had been south of the Twins.

“Horseshit”, another man spoke in a similar rough dialect, whilst chewing loudly on some meat pie. “Cersei’s just trying to frighten us.”

The Queen’s name dismissed all her thoughts of dragons and brought her mind back to her true purpose.

“Well, I hope it’s true. If she lays siege to King’s Landing, the prices’ll triple.”

Merchants…

“Best we get paid then before they start.”

Travelling to King’s Landing…

 “Another round! It’s a long ride.”

Before the assassin could fully form a plan to enter the city disguised as one of the merchants, a voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Arry!”

She looked up, her face a blank mask when she saw the boy standing in front of her.

“Hello, Hot Pie.” She said, giving him a slight smile.

When he continued to stare at her without talking, a full platter in his hands, she smiled wider, gesturing at the table.

“Sit down!” she said, glad when he finally did so and put the tray in front of her.

“Who’s that for?” Arya asked, and quickly grabbed the pie without waiting for his answer.

She cut into the food immediately, not remembering the last time she’d had a decent meal, and ignored Hot Pie’s curious look as she began to eat.

“Hmm,” she genuinely smiled when she took her first bite, “this is good.”

Despite his initial reservations, Hot Pie smiled back when she said that.

“You think so?” he said happily, following it up seriously: “The secret is browning the butter before making the dough. Most people don’t do that because it takes too much time.”

Arya ate on as he spoke, considering the last part.

“I didn’t do that,” she said, frowning as she spoke.

The boy looked up surprised. “You’ve been making pies?”

“One or two…” She licked her thumbs as she answered drily.

Hot Pie seemed unfazed, though. “I can’t believe you’re here! Did you meet the big lady?”

She looked him in the eyes at the last part. “Big lady?”

“The lady knight? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she was a knight, ‘cause she had armour on.”

Arya looked ahead again, recalling a moment when a tall, blonde woman had showed up and beaten the Hound.

Oh yeah…

“She was looking for your sister, but I told her about you. Did she ever find you?”

The girl was getting lost in her thoughts again, but quickly answered when she noticed the baker got quiet.

“She found me.”

They both grew quiet them, Arya sloppily eating the meal as if it was the first one she’d had in years, and Hot Pie looking at her curiously.

After a while, the young man spoke again.

“What happened to you, Arry?”

She looked up at him, opening her mouth for a moment as if to say something, but swiftly closing it again.

When he continued to stare at her, she spoke.

“You got any ale?”

The boy looked surprised, but nodded. Before he got the chance to grab the pitcher, Arya reached over and grabbed it, pouring herself a big cup and downing it in one go.

Her friend looked like he wanted to comment, but instead asked her: “Where’re you headed?”

“King’s Landing,” the girl said without hesitation, wiping her mouth with her hand before stuffing herself with some more pie.

“Why?” The surprise in his tone was clear.

“Heard Cersei’s queen now.”

“Heard she blew up the Great Sept, that must’ve been something to see.”

Arya remembered the Sept from her time in King’s Landing. In her mind, she could easily imagine it, filled with dozens of men and women before…

“Boom.” Hot Pie finished, looking puzzled. “Can’t believe someone would do that.”

The young Stark raised her eyebrows and huffed. “Cersei would do that.”

Her old friend looked like he was about to say something else, but before he could Arya noticed that the two merchants were leaving.

She wiped her mouth again and stood up.

“I have to go,” she said hastily, “thanks for the pie.”

Grabbing her satchel, she began to look for coins but was interrupted by Hot Pie.

“Friends don’t pay,” he said, smiling softly.

Arya was surprised by that. It had been a long time since someone had actually given her something, without being coerced into doing so.

“Can’t believe I ever thought you were a boy.” Her surprise only grew at his next words. “You’re pretty!”

The way he was nodding as he said that was weird, as was the comment.

She tried her hardest not to frown at him, though, and simply gave an awkward smile and said “Thanks” before she continued grabbing her stuff.

The girl was tempted to leave it at that, but something inside her made her stop for a moment to put her hand on his shoulder.

“Take care of yourself, Hot Pie… Try not to get killed,” she said, and she felt that she truly meant it.

“Nah, I won’t,” he said, sniffing as he nodded, “I’m like you, Arry. I’m a survivor.”

Arya smiled sadly and nodded one last time at her friend before she turned around and walked out the door.

She kind of wished she was like him. That she could have stayed there, bakingpies for the hungry, serving people.

But that wasn’t her, she knew, as she followed the merchants’ cart South.

---

 

“If you’d just listened to me, we could’ve made 5 times that money! 20 golden Stags, easily!”

“If I’d listened to YOU? If you’d listened to me and not fucked it all up, we’d be swimming in gold and pussy right now!”

Arya sighed, rolling her eyes for what must have been the hundredth time that morning.

For days now, she had been following these two merchants, thinking it would be a good plan once they finally arrived at King’s Landing.

She had it all figured out: once they were close, she would sneak up on one of them as he was talking a piss at night, cut off his face and by the next morning she and the other asshole would be inside the city, without ever being noticed.

Quick, easy and subtle.

Unfortunately, she had noticed after a couple of days that these idiots were all but quick, easy and subtle.

They argued about everything, day in and day out, they ruined their own deals and when they finally made some coin they used it on the first whore they could find.

Arya had been this close to simply slicing their throats after the first week of travelling, and simply manning the cart herself all the way into the city.

But, knowing she didn’t have the connections that could get her inside, she kept quiet and out of sight, and strayed away from the Kingsroad every so often to get their annoying voices out of her head.

“If you don’t shut up right now, you cocksucking-!”

That’s it…

The girl gave up for the day and swiftly turned her horse to the right, veering off the road and into the forest.

She knew what followed: they would argue, get into a cursing fight, which then led to a real fight that lasted basically the rest of the day, and at night the two would nurse their wounds at any inn that would let them in.

So knowing they wouldn’t be making any progress for the rest of the day, Arya decided to scout the area, perhaps even find some more food.

It had been easy enough to steal some from the merchants every once in a while, but the girl knew that, despite how stupid they were, they would realize she was trailing them eventually if food went missing every day.

It didn’t matter to her, though. She knew other ways to procure food.

“YOU FUCKING-!”

“Urgh,” she grunted, spurring her horse on to go even faster, not caring if she might get too far to find them again easily. It had been weeks. She needed to be alone.

She kept her horse galloping at a steady pace, not even stopping when they got out of the forest.

On and on she went, crossing plains, small rivers, forests and roads until the sun was past its highest before she finally stopped when she came upon another road.

Arya took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her brow as she looked around, trying to figure out where in seven Hells she was.

The Gold Road or the Roseroad, I guess… Shit, I’m ways off now…

She cursed herself under her breath, considering turning straight back to the Kingsroad, but she abandoned the idea and got off her horse instead, leading it to the lake ahead.

It doesn’t matter, she thought to herself, leaving her horse to drink as she did the same. All roads here lead to King’s Landing. I’ll just follow this road east, make sure I reach the edge of the city before them and meet them up the Kingsroad.

She thought back of the men she had left that morning, a look of disgust growing on her face. Or I just wait at the end of the Roads for any other merchant and take his face… Anything not to be near those guys ever again…

Finally calmed down again, Arya got back on her horse and turned east, hoping to find something to eat before the sun went down.

There’s a lake here… Maybe I could fish? Nah, that’d take too long… This is a big road, I thought I would see someone soon enough, but it’s completely empty…

The thought made her look at her surroundings more closely.

Nobody around for miles, but I can see plenty of hoofmarks on the ground… And fresh horseshit… It looks like a lot of people were here only hours ago… Merchants? No, an army, must be… But which?

The assassin stopped her horse, trying to figure out what was going on. She closed her eyes and strained her ears, listening for any sign of an army.

At first, all she could hear was the wind, her own breathing, her horse’s.

But then, vaguely, she thought she could hear footsteps.

It was very soft at first, but the sound gradually grew louder.

And louder.

And accompanied by wild screams.

Arya opened her eyes again. In the distance, no more than two miles from where she was standing, she could see a dust cloud filling the sky.

Somehow both anxious and excited at the same time, the girl steered her horse to the left, trying to find higher ground to safely see what exactly was happening.

When she was finally up the hill, her excitement easily won over from her anxiousness.

There, down by the lake, she could see a red and golden army with lions on their banners, overrun by wild horsemen.

She smiled wickedly.

Lannisters…

They must not have been prepared for a battle, since Arya could see full carts, and men scrambling to get into a fighting position, barely even given the chance to get on their horses before the unarmoured but clearly strong riders were upon them, slashing through any- and everyone they could see.

The young Stark was tempted to join them. She put her hand on Needle, grabbing the sword eagerly.

But, despite how much she disliked to, she waited.

She had never been on a battlefield like that before, and although slicing Lannister throats seemed great, she wasn’t sure she would be able to make it out alive.

And she needed to be alive, at least until she had put her sword through the last names on her list, and one last Lannister in particular.

So instead of rushing downhill and into the fray, Arya watched, her eyes never leaving the battle.

At least, not until one sound broke her from her trance.

A loud growl forced her eyes to look up, and the moment she did her breath stopped.

The mighty black and red beast flew over the horsemen, crossing the distance to the Lannisters in only seconds, growling once more before it breathed fire and burned every soldier to a crisp.

Arya Stark would never forget the first time she saw a dragon.

Chapter 2: Fire and Blood

A strong smell of fire and blood filled the air, together with bloodcurdling screams and a smokescreen so dark you could barely even see the massacre by the river anymore.

Arya hardly noticed it at this point, though. Her eyes were glued to the magnificent beast that was causing all this death and destruction.

Sure, she glanced down occasionally when the dragon set another group of Lannisters on fire, a crazy smile on her face as it burned away shields, armour and everything inside of it.

But her gaze always whipped right back up every time, mesmerized by the dragon.

The way it moved, the way it glided through the sky, its wings powerful enough to be destructive even without the fire it breathed.

And then there was the woman.

Arya had only noticed her after a while, when the animal turned around and the girl suddenly caught a glimpse of silver hair and the person beneath it.

Daenerys Targaryen.

The young Stark had heard her name before. Whispers in the streets about this queen from another land, this mother of dragons, leader of an army of thousands of warrior eunuchs and wild horsemen.

She had never paid the whispers much mind; after all, the people in the streets liked to gossip, whether there was any truth to it or not.

But here, now, watching this woman ride the most powerful creature the girl had ever seen, she believed it.

Hell, they could tell her the Targaryen had an army of millions and breathed fire herself, at this point Arya could believe anything.

A sudden turn and shriek of the animal made her look away and back down again.

Motherfucker!

There, in the middle of the battlefield, she could see a man who had apparently used some sort of oversized crossbow to almost hit the dragon with such great force that it had felt the need to evade it.

She could see him loading the weapon again, once more aiming it at the – now angry – beast.

Arya suddenly felt anxious.

Shit, shit, shit… What should I do…

The girl had her hand on her sword and considered running for the man. It was strange, this need she felt to protect the dragon, but she couldn't help herself. The animal simply had that effect on her...

But despite her anxiousness, she didn’t move; she had tied her horse up a mile back so she could sneak closer without being spotted, and on top of that she had heard voices from the hilltop to her left. The chances of her being killed before she even made it there were too big to risk it.

So she waited, gripping her sword so hard she felt it might snap in half, her eyes wide with both anger and fear.

When the next large arrow hit its mark, she cursed as loudly as she dared, trying to keep herself from thoughtlessly running down toward the animal.

She watched as the dragon swept down, almost hitting the water before finally straightening up again and flying to the shore, allowing Arya to release a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

Whew, Arya sighed, relaxing her posture as she closed her eyes for a second, trying to compose herself again.

Too close…

Another sound made her eyes snap open, only to see that the dragon had once more breathed fire.

She barely saw a man being pushed out of the way and into the water before the fire engulfed the entire area.

Both shocked and impressed by the Lannister soldier’s guts to actually try and attack a living dragon like that, she wanted to try and get a closer look to see if the man had made it.

The moment she moved thought, she heard horses coming from her left and quickly hid herself between the rocks again.

Just in time: a smaller group of fully armed horsemen rode by, accompanied by a familiar imp.

Tyrion Lannister… The assassin considered attacking him for a moment, but looking at the impressive bodyguards he had riding with him she quickly abandoned the idea.

He wasn’t on her list – yet, and aside from that, the man seemed too insignificant next to the huge dragon he was riding towards.

Arya grinned when she saw how the dwarf barely dared to go near the dragon, and then looked away as she snuck around the scene, trying to get a better – and closer – view.

 

---

 

The smoke was finally starting to fade away, but the smell of blood and burned men still hung heavy in the air.

In front of her was a group of men, no more than 50, she estimated. The only survivors of the easy-won battle.

Daenerys stood tall in front of them, her Dothraki all around, Drogon positioned above her on top of the hill.

He would be alright, she thought as she looked at him for a moment. The arrow had hit him hard, but had not done too much damage. From the looks of it, he would get over his wounds quickly.

Unlike others, she thought as she watched a deflated Tyrion join her side.

She knew what troubled him. Despite his loyalty to her, these were still his family’s men. She could understand his sadness.

This was, however, not a time to allow feelings to get in the way.

I am the Queen, she thought as she stepped forward, pulling strength from her dragon's loud growl, and this fight is not yet over.

“I know what Cersei has told you” she said, sternly but loud enough for all the men to hear. “That I have come to destroy your cities. Burn down your homes. Murder you and orphan your children.”

She paused as she watched the worn-out and defeated men below her. “That’s Cersei Lannister, not me. I am not here to murder, and all I want to destroy is the wheel that has rolled over rich and poor, to the benefit of no one but the Cersei Lannisters of this world.”

Another pause as she tried to find some recognition in the lifeless eyes that were staring at her. A glimmer of agreement.

“ I offer you a choice. Bend the knee and join me. Together, we will leave the world a better place than we found it.”

Without blinking, she continued. “Or refuse, and die.”

Daenerys could feel Tyrion’s eyes shifting towards her as she said the last part, but she ignored it. He would realize that this was the only way. Even if it took him some time, he would come to agree that this was the best course of action.

Only few bent the knee, though. That was, until Drogon growled again, so loudly that it seemed the men fell over from the sheer force of the sound.

From her hiding place behind the group of men, completely out of sight but close enough to make out the words, Arya grinned darkly when the soundwave knocked them all over.

She could almost smell the fear coming off of the men, the fear the dragon was causing.

Well, not just the dragon…

The young Stark’s gaze swept down again, focusing on the silver-haired Queen.

The woman was smaller than she had expected. Younger too.

Not the way she had always imagined the Targaryens of old. Back in Winterfell, those had been her favourite stories; the stories of Visenya and Rhaenys, two women, the two Targaryen dragonriders that had aided Aegon in his conquest of the seven Kingdoms.

In her mind, the Targaryens were fighters, tall and strong, powerful both in the air as on the ground.

She hadn’t seen it in this woman at first, though. This Targaryen seemed small, and soft, and didn’t even carry a sword.

But when she began to speak, when her gaze turned hard as she threatened these men, as she gave them a ‘choice’, when she had her dragon growl loud enough to collapse a small village and the woman didn’t even flinch, …

Arya smiled darkly as the silver-haired woman stood there, towering over the other men, not a hint of emotion on her face when the old man stepped forward to die, or even when the man’s son stepped forward to join him.

From her spot she could see Tyrion Lannister join her, apparently trying to talk her out of it – the young Stark couldn’t make out what they were saying, but even from that distance she could see the Targaryen was winning the argument.

When Tyrion finally looked over his shoulder at the dragon, which suddenly moved, and then looked up at his Queen fearfully again, it was clear what was going to happen.

The girl felt her excitement growing when she saw the men were being brought up to the animal, her grin large as she watched closely, barely daring to blink.

“Lord Randall Tarly, Dickon Tarly.” The woman spoke, slowly but determinedly. “I, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of my Name, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die. Dracarys.”

Arya couldn’t make out that last word, but she didn’t care. She was close enough to actually feel the heat from the fire now, the two men burned up completely in mere seconds.

So beautiful… the assassin looked at the Queen for a moment, but her eyes immediately went back up to the dragon. So powerful…

The group in front of her was beginning to leave, each of the Lannisters on their knees now, but the girl couldn’t tear her eyes away from the enormous animal.

He could wipe out King’s Landing, she thought, still high on adrenaline, All of it… I could ride it all the way to the Red Keep and burn Cersei in her fucking bedroom… Turn Gregor Clegane into a ham – the Hound would’ve appreciated that… Destroy the entire city, and all the people that were calling my father a traitor, shouting for his death. I could wipe them all out in less than a day.

Her wild train of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a group of shouting horsemen, along with the handful of Lannister men that had survived.

She slunk away into the shadows quickly, and snuck back to her horse, trying to get her mind back in order.

Don’t be ridiculous, that’s impossible. You have a plan… A good one. Sneak into King’s Landing, kill Cersei and the Mountain.

Arya looked back to see Daenerys Targaryen mounting her dragon again.

The feeling of excitement in her chest made her want to turn around and run toward the two, but she forced herself to turn around and shook her head.

No, no dragons. Cersei first. Get to your horse, get back on the road, find those merchants…

The thought of those asshole merchants made her pause again, and look around as the dragon growled one last time before it flew up into the sky.

She didn’t need to find those specific idiots again. She could make do with anyone. She could stake out the city, find someone more suited for her purpose. Or simply find another way in and then disguise herself with a face she still had on her, or…

Or Cersei can wait, Arya thought as she reached her horse and followed the fresh hoof tracks and the distant black-and-red dot in the sky.

Chapter 3: Dragonstone

Was this a stupid idea?

Arya asked herself the question again as she broke up her camp for that morning, trying to wipe away as much evidence as she could of her presence there.

She looked out across the Narrow Sea, allowing the sound of the waves to calm her as it had these past few days.

There was no one in sight for miles, not on the water nor on the land to her other side. Still, Arya had been careful as she made her way to Dragonstone, trying her best not to be spotted by anyone.

Although she had become quite good at being invisible when she was a Faceless Man, it had come close one or two times; luckily, the horse-warriors were as loud as they were fast, so the girl had enough time to climb either up into a tree or a few ways down the rocky shores.

Her horse, on the other hand…

Stupid…

The young Stark was still angry at herself for that time she had almost been caught. She had made good time initially, quickly passing King’s Landing and following the coastline to the Targaryen's island. She had been so amazed by the dragons that she hadn’t even stopped to sleep, pushing her horse to ride through the night.

As a consequence, the animal had been tired, she had been tired, and by the time she had realised there were riders coming from the opposite direction, it was too late.

She had spurred her horse on to ride even faster, grabbed her saddle bag and jumped onto a low-hanging tree-branch, climbing up as fast as she could into the foliage.

By the time the Dothraki arrived, only seconds later, Arya was hidden well enough, but the men immediately commandeered her horse, looking for its owner only for a few moments before taking it with them along the road.

Stupid, stupid, STUPID.

The former assassin was becoming pissed again, punctuating each word in her thoughts by kicking the pyre and remaining firewood down the cliff, before she finally became calm again.

This was definitely a stupid idea.

Despite her bitter thoughts, though, the girl picked up her saddle-bag-turned-backpack and walked on, carefully avoiding the main road this time and sticking close to the coastline.

She had considered turning back when she lost her horse. She thought that maybe it was a sign that this endeavour wasn’t the smartest, or the most practical one, or even the most realistic one at that.

But then she thought of the dragon.

Of its size.

Its black and red scales.

The fire and destruction it caused.

Riding it over to King’s Landing and setting every last Lannister on fire…

And suddenly her determination rose again, making her walk on with a dark smile on her face.

She didn’t think about the logistics, though. A small part of the young woman knew that her plan had massive flaws. That hoping the dragon would be like a horse and listen to her right away was a foolish wish, an impossible dream, and that the odds of her dying before she could even touch the animal were much, much higher than the imagination that was filling her brain.

Yes, Arya knew.

Sort of.

The thought pushed its way into the forefront of her brain sometimes, and she did consider it for a moment… Until the image of herself on a dragon, flying straight into the throne room and burning Cersei Lannister, making her melt into the Iron Throne and then melting the Throne itself got the better hand again.

So she walked on, as she had the past couple of days.

By midday, a sound made her scamper down the cliff again, hiding from what she thought were more horsemen.

When her head was only barely looking over the cliff and she looked up the road again, her breath stopped when she realised she was wrong.

It wasn’t the sound of the warriors and their horses. It was the echo of a dragon’s roar.

No, not one dragon…

Arya was awestruck as she looked in the distance. An enormous structure seemed to rise out of the water, almost like a volcano. The castle was nothing like King’s Landing, its dark walls and simple exterior making it look more like a fortress than a palace.

But, although the island itself was impressive, the girl’s gaze barely grazed over it, instead focusing on the animals that flew around it.

Three dragons… She thought, itching to move closer despite the raging water below her.

She could easily see the black one again, larger than the other two, making loops around the highest tower of the castle. The other two looked green and white from a distance, maybe with markings of some other colours…

Bronze, maybe…  the girl wondered longing to get closer.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she did hear the sound of horses behind her.

Cursing herself for her distracted state of mind (what kind of assassin gets surprised by enemies this loud) and relieved that she had been smart enough to stay out of sight, she climbed back up when the men had passed and began figuring out a way across the water.

---

 

Was this a stupid idea?

The question popped into her mind again, and as much as she wanted to dismiss it, this time Arya was certain that yes, this was indeed a very stupid idea.

She kept her breathing as silent as she could, trying very hard not to move the canvas she was hidden under.

The Stark girl knew she should have waited. Should have scouted a few days to figure out a mode of transportation to the island. Perhaps waited until nightfall to borrow a small rowboat and get across on her own.

A man spoke in a language she couldn’t understand, and Arya tensed up for a moment, worried she had been found out. When no other voices followed, and the only sounds she could hear were the oars hitting the water, she knew she was safe.

Why are they not talking? It’s unnerving! she thought, cursing herself for her stupid idea again.

When she had snuck past the horsemen and the very different-looking soldiers on the beach and hidden herself underneath the canvas in the back of the boat, she had expected to be joining a bunch of loud, rowdy men in the water, as she had come to know the horse-warriors.

Instead, she was apparently stuck with the other men, who did not speak to one another, did not shout, only rowed in perfect military unison and occasionally yelled instructions.

To say the silence was making her nervous was an understatement.

Why am I doing this… She almost groaned at how uncomfortable she was, having been stuck under there rolled up in a ball for at least an hour now. There must have been another way…

She had tried to come up with another way, though. Her first idea had been to kill one of the Targaryen soldiers - one of the quiet ones preferably, because even if she had the exact same face as one of the horsemen, with her size she would barely be able to pass as one of their youngest men – but she quickly realised that wouldn’t be possible.

One, because they seemed to always travel in perfectly coordinated groups.

And two: because she couldn’t speak the fucking language.

So here she was now, contemplating life with her face pressed to the bottom of the boat, clenching her teeth against the cold water that occasionally splashed in her face.

She considered giving up; she had a dagger firmly clasped in her hand, and considered killing each and every one of the men sitting in front of her.

The assassin could probably slice all their throats and push them into the water before they even realised she was there.

But she knew that missing men would only rouse suspicion, and she didn’t need that.

Besides, she didn’t come here to kill anyone.

All she wanted was a dragon.

Keeping her goal in mind, Arya kept quiet and waited.

When she felt the boat finally hit the shore, the girl’s mind became alert again.

She could hear the men leaving the boat, she could hear them pushing it up on the beach, and considered what she should do.

Jump out now and risk being seen?

Wait but risk being discovered and unable to fight back from under this bloody seat?

Luckily, her question was answered for her when she suddenly heard a faraway voice calling out.

“Dovaogēdy! Skoros udir hen Dārys Tegorīr?”

It was a man’s voice, Arya could tell, and apparently a higher-up man at that, because the moment he called she could hear the men from her boat clang their armour in unison, probably saluting whoever was talking to them, and she could hear their heavy footsteps in the sand, marching away from her.

Feeling like luck was finally on her side, Arya quickly slipped out from under the tarp, carefully jumped out of the boat and hid behind it.

A few paces away she could see the men joining up with the other man, who was dressed in similar clothing, and joined by a very familiar-looking-

Dwarf… Tyrion Lannister.

Arya suddenly felt nervous again. This man was one of the few people left in this world who might actually recognize her, and the Stark girl knew what happened when people recognized her.

Fortunately, it quickly became clear that she didn’t need to worry right then. The moment the soldiers from her boat approached the two, the Lannister and the commander turned around and walked towards the castle, the other men in tow.

By the time they finally entered the pathway and were out of sight, the young woman could breathe again, quickly sheathing her dagger as she moved in another direction, determined to find a way up that didn’t put her anywhere near the Imp.

As she found a different, less trodden path and began climbing up the mountain, she considered her options.

Should I put on another face? I still have a few, if I want to be safe I probably should…

She shrugged off her cloak, the climb warming her up considerably, and pushed it in her bag as she looked through the faces she had with her.

Then again, people will be suspicious of me walking around here whichever face I wear… And it’s not like I need to be inside of the castle… All I want is-

“Dragons…”

Her thoughts were cut short when she finally reached the top of the hill and her gaze was once more pulled towards the three dragons flying around the impressive fortress.

The structure was even more imposing up close, its dark walls intimidating the small woman, bringing her mind back to memories of stories from Old Nan back at Winterfell.

Stories about the Targaryens and their dragons, about Visenya, and Rhaenys, and Aegon, and…

A genuine smile grew on her face as she thought of those stories while she – still carefully – walked closer to the castle, on stones that they probably usually walked on.

I can’t believe I’m really here, standing where they stood… 

The giddy smile still on her face, she was surprised when another thought suddenly jumped up.

Sansa always loved stories about kings, and princes… This must have been how she felt when she saw King’s Landing for the first time…

The thought of her sister suddenly made her sad, so she quickly pushed it away and focused on the part that she could work with.

Her anger at King’s Landing.

Her reason for being here.

With her purpose returned to her, Arya moved closer and began to fully take in her surroundings.

She watched the dragons flying above Dragonstone castle, saw the large pathway far ahead of her, some unkempt grass to her right, and to her left a large patch of pushed-down grass, with a few burn-marks scattered around it.

Bingo.

---

 

The sky was becoming darker by the time Arya was finally finished setting up her camp, but she was pleased with how it had turned out.

After a bit of searching around the island, she had found a spot right next to the cliffside, where a few boulders had been positioned by nature to form the perfect niche.

It was sturdy enough, hidden from plain sight, had enough room so that Arya could move around without having to bend down too much, she could make a fire without being spotted from the castle and she could sneak through the rest of the rocks that lined the hill all the way to the dragon-field.

Perfect, the girl thought as she placed the last pieces of firewood on a pile.

This was the way it was supposed to be. With careful planning, she could now scout out the place. Check out the dragon-feeding habits from the people of the castle, study the dragons for a moment to see what they were like, how they should be approached…

Her perfectly constructed plans were quickly thwarted, though, when a sound broke her from her thoughts.

Against the darkening sky, Arya could see that feeding time had already ended; she could barely make out what looked like animal remains on the ground, and in the sky she could see the black dragon, growling as he apparently chomped on an entire ox, all while airborne.

Annoyed with the fruitless, completely wasted day, the girl quickly moved out of her hiding space and snuck closer to the field to go and figure out what the dragons liked to eat at least.

By the time she got there it was almost completely dark, and the dragons had flown out of sight.

Her hopes of seeing the animals up close crushed, the young Stark slipped away from the rocks and walked over to what she assumed was the feeding spot.

Oxes… She had guessed correctly. On the ground, she found a few pieces from one animal – a front leg, a horn, what looked like the end of a tail – but also another, almost complete animal.

That’s weird, she thought, a frown appearing on her face, I didn’t think dragons would ever-

The sound of a loud shriek and a heavy thump right behind her finished her thought for her.

Her breath simply stopped, and all the hairs on her body stood up when she heard the rumbling and felt a heat crawl up her back.

Shit - shit – shit – shit – shit!

She thought about screaming, about running, she hoped somehow that the ground would swallow her up and bring her to safety, her mind went hundred miles per hour, until a very, very loud and long roar from the dragon stopped her brain from functioning entirely.

Arya was almost pushed over by the mere force of the roar, and she felt the fear rise up like bile in her throat.

And then she cursed herself again.

After all, this was exactly what she had wanted.

So she took a deep, shuddering breath and began to slowly turn around.

The low growling behind her didn’t stop as she did so, her hands clenched into fists by her side.

For a fleeting moment she wished she’d have taken Needle with her when she left her hiding spot, but she knew the thin blade would be of no use in a situation like this.

So the young woman kept turning, slowly, barely daring to look up when she was finally face to face with the dragon.

But she did look up, and although her fear was still very much present, there was also something else.

Looking at the enormous animal towering over her, hostility apparent on every part of its body, Arya was once more mesmerised.

Even in the semi-darkness she could see that the dragon was a vibrant shade of green, with bronze markings on it. Its head was almost the size of her entire body, each of its many teeth the size of her underarm, and she could see smoke rising from its nostrils, as if it was preparing to breathe fire.

Of course it is… I’m standing in front of its dinner…

The Stark girl considered moving out of the way, stepping sideways so that maybe she wouldn’t end up as the giant animal’s dessert.

Unfortunately, however, today was a day of stupid ideas.

Instead of stepping away from the animal, Arya inched closer.

The dragon stepped closer as well, its growl growing slightly louder, but the young woman didn’t give up.

She lifted her hand and moved even closer. Almost close enough to touch him now.

The girl looked into the animal’s eyes, an excited smile growing on her face as she stepped even closer, her breath becoming more and more shallow as she feels the heat emanating its head.

When the dragon stopped growling, Arya’s smile turned into a grin – until a powerful movement of the dragon’s wing pushed her backward, toppling over the ox carcass and onto the ground.

Staring at the vicious beast above her, seeing the fireball growing in its mouth, the girl suddenly felt calm, closing her eyes and accepting her fate.

What do we say to the God of Death?

“RHAEGAL! Keligon!”

Arya heard the voice from a few paces away, but she paid it no mind, expecting to be consumed by fire at any second.

When she suddenly felt colder instead of burning, she opened her eyes and saw the dragon fly away with the remaining ox.

Damn… she thought, feeling intensely relieved despite her earlier acceptance.

“What on earth were you thinking, boy?!”

Arya’s head whipped back. There, behind her, clad in black clothing with her silver-white hair lit up by the moon, stood Daenerys Targaryen.

Shit.

Notes:

Translation:
“Dovaogēdy! Skoros udir hen Dārys Tegorīr?” - Unsullied! What news from King's Landing?
"Keligon!" - Stop!

Chapter 4: Cat and Mouse

The sun was setting, its orange glow reflecting beautifully off her dragons’ scales, but Daenerys hardly noticed the amazing scenery in front of her.

She stood on one of the platforms on the path to her castle, looking out over the rest of the island and the sea. Her dragons passed through her field of vision occasionally, but unlike other times when the sight would bring her joy, the Queen didn’t feel anything now.

Only frustration. The same frustration she had been feeling for days.

A sigh escaped her lips as she looked down. She had asked to be left alone, and knowing that no one could see her now, she finally felt free enough to let down her guard down.

Leaning her elbows on the stone railing, she put her head in her hands, closing her eyes to try and push down the feelings that were boiling inside of her.

Anger, because of the plans the Lannisters had thwarted, the alliances she had lost because of them, and her inability to do anything about it without ruining her chance to become a good ruler…

Fear, because she had no idea how she would take Westeros without Dorne, Highgarden and the Iron Islands to help her…

Frustration, because even Tyrion and Varrys seemed to have run out of options by now, and only continued to stress that she shouldn’t simply burn King’s Landing to the ground…

Even more anger each time Tyrion mentioned how she shouldn’t want to be “Queen of the Ashes”…

Daenerys groaned as she looked up again, trying to regain her composure.

That had been the final drop today, the reason why she was standing out here staring out at the darkening skies instead of having dinner with her advisors.

“I understand you’re getting frustrated, Your Grace, but laying waste to an entire city would not help your cause. I thought you came here to be Queen of Westeros, not Queen of the A-“

She hadn’t even let him finish. It was too much after a long day of planning things that they currently couldn’t do, and especially too much after days of Tyrion looking angry at her for her actions at the Roseroad.

So she had simply brought her hand down hard on the war table, shocking even herself with the sound, and before the flabbergasted Tyrion could say anything she had calmly stated that today’s meetings were over, and that she needed some time alone.

The Queen could tell that Missandei wanted to follow her the moment she stood up, but a curt shake of her head made the young woman sit down again regardless.

Daenerys sighed as she remembered the worried look on the girl’s face.

I should go back soon, she thought, finally opening her eyes again to see that the sky was almost dark. She deserves an explanation.

She turned around, but as she began to make her way up the path, a loud roar suddenly grabbed her attention.

It was one of her dragons, of that she was sure, what she couldn’t understand was why he had made that sound.

They’ve never made a sound like that after being fed… Sounds like he’s angry, but at what..? Or at whom..?

The woman couldn’t make anything out in the darkness, so she quickly decided to go and take a look.

When she finally got close enough, she could see a very angry Rhaegal at the feeding ground.

More surprising, though, was the small figure next to him. As Daenerys was rushing closer she could see the leather-clad person more clearly. It looked like a young man, with pulled-back hairs and a crazy smile on his face.

The look on this boys’ face made the Queen pause for a moment, and when he suddenly began moving closer to the dragon, she stopped walking altogether.

What in the world…

She was mesmerised by the scene in front of her, her heart beating loudly in her chest, her nerves on end as she saw a full grin break out on the young man’s face when Rhaegal stopped growling.

Oh no!

Before she could stop it, the dragon had already pushed the intruder back with a powerful flap of his wings, toppling the boy over.

From where she was once more rushing closer, Daenerys could see the surprisingly calm look on the young man’s face while Rhaegal was preparing to breathe fire.

Before the animal could, though, the Queen finally regained her voice and shouted: “Rhaegal! Keligon!”

A relieved sigh escaped her lips when the animal did stop, grabbed the leftover ox and quickly flew off into the night.

She stopped running as she watched Rhaegal fly away, and only turned to the intruder when she heard him let out a small sigh.

Relief was quickly replaced by anger as she positioned herself in front of the young man.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, boy?!”

From her side, Arya’s sense of relief disappeared almost as quickly when she saw the angry Queen in front of her.

Shit.

She scrambled around, suddenly realising that she was unarmed, but looking for anything she might use as a weapon.

When she was finally on her feet again, a small but sharp ox-bone in her hand that might double as a makeshift-knife, she blinked a few times, trying to regain her bearings.

Daenerys Targaryen was standing in front of her.

Arya did a quick look-around. The woman seemed to be alone. Angry, judging by the frown on her face, but no guards, and especially no imp.

The girl loosened her grip on the bloody bone a bit.

She’s alone, and unarmed, the dragons are gone, I’m alive…

The young Stark could barely believe the last part.

I’m alive… She quickly glanced herself over, and uninjured, and I look like a mess… I can work with that.

Taking a deep breath, Arya let go of the makeshift-knife and lifted her hands, willing herself to become the persona she had just come up with to make it out of this situation.

“I’m sorry, milady,” she spoke softly, her face one of fear and regret, “I didn’t mean no harm, I swear!”

It was a gamble, this act she was putting up. A safer course of action would have been to attack the woman, slice her throat and run off before anyone even noticed what had happened.

But something inside the former assassin stopped her from doing so. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that the silver-haired woman had just saved her life, or the memory of the Targaryen in front of the Lannister army…

Either way, something inside Arya said that this woman didn’t deserve to die, so all she could do now was play her part, and hope for the best.

When the Queen raised an eyebrow at her words and crossed her arms, her hope faded a little.

“You’re not a boy at all, are you…?” The woman asked, puzzlement seeping through her stern voice.

The younger woman was surprised by the unexpected question, frowning before she hesitantly answered.

“I… Well, no, milady, I’m not.”

She still had her hands raised in surrender, and kept them that way while the Queen calmly walked closer to her, apparently scrutinizing her appearance.

“But you’re wearing boy’s clothes…”

The silver-haired woman was walking around her now, her sharp eyes taking in every part of the girl’s appearance, and Arya was certain that if she’d been anyone else, she would have been terrified right now.

So that was exactly how she tried to look, as though she didn’t dare to speak, or even look in the Queen’s direction.

“Why?”

The girl blinked dumbly, her hands shaking slightly by her head.

When the other woman stepped in front of her again, the former assassin was glad to see that the woman’s face softened considerably, although there was an intensity to her that kept her nerves on edge as well.

A slight smile appeared on the silver-haired woman’s features. “You may drop your hands now, girl.”

Arya quickly did as she was told, clenching her hands into fists at her side, her head still bowed down.

When she heard a slight chuckle after a few moments, she couldn’t help but look up again. This was definitely not the reaction she had expected.

The Queen smiled as she asked her a new question, a curious look on her face.

“You’re an odd one… A girl, dressed as a boy, wandering around my island, grinning like a warrior when coming face to face with one of my dragons, but fearful as a child in front of me…”

Shit.

Her gamble was a bust. Arya knew it right there and then. If she had known how much the Queen had seen…

But it didn’t matter now. She had chosen this play, and she would try to stick to it… for now.

Her grey eyes still nervous, she looked into Daenerys’ hard ones, but said nothing.

Amused, the other woman chuckled again before shaking her head.

“What is your name, girl?”

Without a pause, the young Stark answered. “Arry, milady.”

“Arry…” The older woman took another step towards her, and although she wasn’t very tall, it was immediately very clear that she was at least taller than Arya. “And do you know who I am, Arry?”

The girl thought of the list of names she had heard before.

Daenerys of House Targaryen, first of her name, breaker of chains and mother of dragons…

Instead, she answered more plainly, although her voice was less hesitant now.

“You’re the dragon Queen.”

Although her head was still bowed down, her eyes were fully locked with the other woman’s, gaging her reactions to estimate how she herself should respond.

The woman smiled again, raising her eyebrows. “Yes. I am Queen Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons… One of which you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting.”

Arya continued to look at the woman, but kept her expression schooled and herself silent.

The Queen continued. “And this is my castle, and my island, Dragonstone. The only people allowed on my island are my Unsullied, my Dothraki, my advisors and myself… So I ask you again, Arry, what are you doing here?”

If she had to be honest, the former Faceless Man was quite impressed with the game Daenerys Targaryen was playing. It was a game of cat and mouse, and by this point the cat had the mouse trapped in a corner, completely at her mercy.

Or so she thinks... The girl looked down again, trying to figure out her next move.

She knew the ‘fearful-girl’ act could only go so far, seeing as the Queen had already seen her interact less-than-fearful with the dragon, so she decided to adjust her approach to a more truthful one.

“Would you believe me if I said I just came to enjoy the view, milady?” She half-grinned, a hopeful look in her eyes.

As she had expected, Daenerys wouldn’t have it. “Don’t make me lose my patience, girl… I can call back that dragon any second and have you killed.”

Arya sighed bitterly, scratching her neck as she looked down. “Of course you would,” she said, eliciting a surprised look from the older woman. “That’s all you lot ever do, isn’t it?”

Her bitterness had grasped the queen’s attention, she could tell, so the young Stark continued.

“You queens and kings, all you ever do is fight amongst yourselves, and kill anyone who stands in your way. Doesn’t matter who they are, children or fathers or mothers,-” there was some real anger seeping through now, but Arya didn’t care. A lie closer to the truth was always a better lie, and she needed some truth to be able to bullshit her way out of this one.

“-you’ll just kill anyone, and fuck over the rest of the people so they are left alone to rot, with no other way to stay alive than to hope they can find something to eat and not get killed by another soldier or dragon or a … whatever!”

She folded her arms as she finished, making sure her face was angry but not dangerously so, so the silver-haired woman wouldn’t feel threatened, just intrigued.

A quick glance in the Queen’s direction told Arya she was safe, though. The intense look on the woman’s face was gone, and replaced by an honest curiosity, pity, and perhaps even some shame shining through.

“I… That was not my intention… But it still doesn’t explain-“

“Why I’m here?” the younger woman quickly interjected, her plan unfolding nicely by now. “Because everywhere I’ve been on Westeros, at one point or another some soldiers from some King or Queen would come and kill everyone. But this island has dragons!” A grin grew on her face. “No one fucks with dragons.”

If there was one thing Daenerys had not expected, it was the answer she’d just gotten.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the grin on the girl’s face.

No, not a girl… A young woman, probably not much younger than I am…

She had not trusted the girl at first. The way she went from daredevil in front of Rhaegal to a scaredy-cat in front of her… But even if she was sure the girl wasn’t entirely honest about everything, she knew that that grin and those last words were definitely true.

“Alright,” the Queen agreed after a moment, the smile still on her face, “that’s fair.”

She looked back at the castle. “It’s getting late. I haven’t eaten dinner yet, and I’m quite certain you haven’t either. Why don’t you come inside for a moment?”

The girl frowned at the words, and stammered in reply, looking more nervous than Daenerys had seen her thus far.

“I- I don’t think… I shouldn’t-“

 “We have enough food, and I wouldn’t mind the company.” The older woman smiled again. “You’re a very interesting girl, Arry, it would be a welcome change from the boring men I usually dine with.”

That wasn’t entirely true; Tyrion and Varrys always had interesting tales, Missandei wasn’t boring in the least, and even Grey Worm could sometimes interject with something Daenerys didn’t know about.

But that didn’t change the fact that the girl was, indeed, fascinating. She was a mystery, and one the older woman would love to know more about.

The look on the girl’s face, however, told her she would need a bit more convincing.

Before she could speak again, though, a voice rang from behind her.

“Your Grace! Is everything alright?”

Tyrion, of course. Daenerys turned around and shouted. “I’m fine, Tyrion, I’ll be right back!”

Turning back, she began to ask “Will you-“, but she didn’t need to finish her sentence.

In the time it had taken her to turn around, the girl had vanished completely.

Chapter 5: Why (not)?

The sound of the waves lapping at the cliffs was audible from where she was hiding, but Arya barely even heard it.

Instead, her ears were filled with the excited thumping of her own heart and the sound of the deep breaths she was taking to try and calm herself down.

She was back in her camp under the rocks, away from both the dragons and their queen. Her hands were shaking as she tried to get her fire going again, still reeling from everything that had happened in the past hour.

As she fumbled with the wood, memories flashed through her mind.

The feeling when the dragon suddenly appeared behind her.

When she turned around and actually saw it, up close, for the very first time.

Her own shaking hand as she tried to get closer to the growling beast.

Laying on her back, defenseless, and watching as a ball of fire formed in the back of its mouth.

The Targaryen Queen, her saviour, with her moon-lit silver hairs and intense violet eyes.

The former assassin shook her head and tried to slow her breathing and heartbeat to a normal rate.

When she was calm again, it only took her seconds to rekindle the fire. Once she finally did, she sat back against the large rock and sighed.

That was insane.

Despite calming down, the girl still felt the leftover adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Not only because of the dragon, though. Sure, her ‘meeting’ with the animal was memorable, to say the least, but it wasn’t the only thing stuck in her brain.

Daenerys Targaryen…

The Queen had seen right through her carefully set up act. Sure, she had seen more of her encounter with the dragon than Arya had expected, but still… The former Faceless Man was certain not many would have been able to call her bluff so quickly.

Or to play with her so masterfully, for that matter.

The girl half-grinned at the memory of the silver-haired woman dancing around her, and the look on her face when she was sure she had won the little powerplay.

Granted, in an attempt to save her cover Arya had shown more of herself than she otherwise would have, but no truths that could expose her at least. And in the end, the game was hers.

It had been nerve-wracking – the thought of the dragon swooping down and finishing what it had started causing her to sweat even now – but at the same time also exhilarating.

Who would’ve thought a queen could be that much fun…

A sudden shriek banished her thoughts about the Targaryen and made her alert again.

Another dragon? she thought, as she began to sneak out of her hiding spot – dagger in hand this time.

When she got outside, blinking to let her eyes get used to the darkness once more, she could vaguely see the white dragon flying overhead.

Although she tried following it with her eyes for a while, her gaze was quickly drawn back to the feeding ground, where she could see a person with a torch crossing past the part where the oxes had been, until they reached the rocky edge of the field.

Curious, Arya snuck a little closer. It didn’t take long for her eyes to adjust again and make out the very distinct silver hairs she had encountered earlier.

A frown grew on her face. What is she doing out here again? Did she tell on me?

Suddenly anxious, she wondered if she should run back to her campsite, put out her fire and leave the island straight away.

After all, she thought, grabbing her dagger even tighter, my chances of actually being able to get one of these dragons are slim… Maybe I should just go, maybe I-

Her thought process was interrupted when she analysed the situation more closely.

The Queen is alone. There is no sign of any guards with her, or even around the field for that matter… But then what is she doing here?

The girl watched, growing gradually more confused as the other woman reached the edge of the field, seemed to place something down and looked around for a few seconds before she moved back towards the castle.

Arya didn’t dare move at first. Only when the queen was finally out of sight, and she could no longer make out the orange glow from her torch, did curiosity take the better of her.

Cautiously she snuck out of her hiding spot and towards whatever the other woman had dropped, unsure of what she would find.

When she finally reached it, she did her best to ignore the little leap her heart made and to push back the weird smile that was growing on her face.

It was food.

For some reason the young Stark couldn’t quite understand, the Queen had brought her some food.

---

 

The sun was already up by the time Arya finally woke up the next morning. Between her eating the delicious food the Targaryen (!!) had brought her and the excitement that was still heavy in her system, sleep had not come easy for her.

It didn’t matter now, though. Unlike the past few months, she had no plans for the day.

She tried to think on what she should do next as she munched on some leftover chicken.

Giving up here is probably the best idea, she mused, trying to get clarity in her mind. I can’t just jump on a dragon and fly to King’s Landing, they’re too…

The girl shook her head.

Too big, too scary, too lethal, … How she had ever thought this would be possible was a mystery to her.

Stealing a dragon was about the stupidest thing she had ever come up with. She had been this close to Cersei, and in just a second she had ruined her shot and followed a crazy idea that had nearly gotten her killed.

Stupid… she thought bitterly, Coming all the way to Dragonstone, risking getting spotted, all to try and take control of an animal that nobody can control!

As she thought that, though, a small voice inside her head suddenly countered.

Not true… Not nobody.

The young woman sighed at the image of the Targaryen that popped into her brain.

Flying on the dragon as she burned an entire battlefield.

In front of a group of defeated warriors as she ordered it to execute two of them.

Right next to her as she saved her life.

Only a few steps away from her as she studied her with that intense gaze.

When the memory of deep violet eyes kept lingering in her brain, Arya quickly stopped herself, shaking her head as she stood up.

This is ridiculous, she thought by herself as she began to pack up her things, trying to ignore the leap in her heart again when she ate the last bite of the food the woman had brought her.

So she can command the dragons, that doesn’t help me. Without knowing why, she grew somewhat frustrated. Staying here would be stupid, it’s not like I can make her order them to listen to me too.

Her hands suddenly stopped their frantic movements.

Can’t I…?

She dropped her bag again, and a smile began to grow on her face.

Once more, a part of her knew that this wasn’t the smart thing to do. She knew that to be sure to accomplish her goals, she had to abolish this idea of dragons, leave Dragonstone, disguise herself and sneak into King’s Landing, using every skill she had learned in the House of Black and White. A solid, safe plan where she could kill Cersei and remain unseen.

Once more, though, Arya ignored that part of her.

---

 

When Daenerys finally walked outside, it was already dark outside, and the cold was beginning to set in.

Regardless, she continued down the path with her torch in hand, happy to finally be outside.

It had once more been a day of seemingly endless disappointments and fruitless meetings. She had tried her best to keep her frustration contained, though – she knew even her advisors would not be able to handle their Queen running out on them a second time, despite how much faith they had in her.

So she had kept it together, listened and nodded, tried to join in on the senseless planning, and remained polite throughout it all.

It had not been easy for her, but thoughts of a very intriguing young woman had made the task lighter to bear.

Daenerys had not told about the girl to anyone else, not even Missandei. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t done so – in a way, she trusted her advisors enough to know they would not harm her if she told them not to.

But the girl – Arry, she remembered – fascinated her. Her fearlessness, her earnestness when she spoke of the damage kings and queens could do, her large grin when she said “nobody fucks with dragons”.

Yes, the girl was interesting, but she knew the others – especially Tyrion – would consider her dangerous.

Truth be told, the Queen wouldn’t even be able to blame them for that; in a way, she herself had felt like the girl might be dangerous while she was talking to her.

Fascinating – yes, mysterious – indeed, wild – very, dangerous - …

She remembered the moment when the girl had noticed her, the dark and calculated look in her eyes when she had scrambled up, a piece of bone clasped in her hand like a dagger.

Definitely…

That was what stopped her from telling her people about them, but it hadn't stopped her from going out alone again yesterday to bring her some food.

Nor did it stop her from doing the exact same thing today.

Daenerys rushed down, the satchel of fresh food, leftovers from her own much too expansive meal, in her hand.

It was a bit unnerving, walking out there in the dark, her torch only lighting the way a few feet around her.

But she wasn’t too afraid, though. After all, her dragons were always one call away from coming to her rescue – even if they might be too late in a situation like this…

She tried to shake off the last ominous thought, but was happy regardless when she made it to the edge of the field again.

Looking around for a moment, the woman was happy to see that the food from the day before was gone.

She found it, she thought, a slight smile growing on her face as she put down the new serving in exactly the same spot. I’m glad…

Like the day before, she looked around for a moment. She knew the odds of seeing her again were small, but still…

“You actually came back.”

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she heard the soft voice coming from behind her.

Chapter 6: Mother of Dragons

“You actually came back.”

Daenerys’ heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she heard the soft voice coming from behind her.

She turned around quickly and was immediately met by a familiar-looking face.

The girl had crept up on her so quietly that the Queen had not heard her coming. In the dim light of the torch she thought she could see a small half-grin on the girl’s face, combined with a calculated look in her eyes that almost made the older woman uneasy.

After a few seconds of her getting over the initial shock, the intense look on the girl’s face was very suddenly replaced by an actual smile, and the tense feeling Daenerys had felt quickly faded away.

“I’m sorry, milady,” the younger woman smiled, an apologetic look on her face, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Something about the girl’s face told her that scaring her had been exactly what she had meant to do - and  if she’d had the power to look into Arya’s mind she would discover that yes, it most definitely was – but the Queen smiled regardless, chuckling slightly.

“It’s alright, Arry,” she spoke, straightening her shoulders as if it hadn’t bothered her at all, “I just… hadn’t heard you coming.”

“I noticed that,” the girl smiled, a mischievous look shining through, “Is it wise though? You, the Queen, running around at night all alone, without anyone to protect you?”

It was a strange thing to ask, Daenerys thought, and for a moment she felt that strange uneasy sensation again, but it passed just as quickly.

She smiled. “I’m not really alone though, am I?”

A shriek coming from somewhere in the dark was enough to make the girl’s expression more alert before she clearly conceded.

“No, I guess not…”

The two of them became silent for a moment, the younger apparently looking out into the darkness for signs of the dragons, while the older woman examined her interest in the animals with a smile.

She wanted to comment, but before she could the girl suddenly seemed to snap out of her stupor.

“Shit, that’s right, almost forgot.” She quickly moved away for a moment to pick something up and ran back. “Here.”

The queen was surprised when the other woman gave her the plate from the other night. She accepted it, but didn’t respond immediately, so the girl continued to speak.

“I tried to clean it. I mean, a bit at least. You know, the best I could… It was…” she paused for a moment, a slight frown on her face as she scratched her neck nervously. “It was really good… Thanks…”

The last part was spoken very softly, and the insecure honesty in the girl’s face made Daenerys feel two things.

1 – that this was probably the first time Arry had been completely honest with her

and 2 – that this kind of gratitude for only a bit of food probably meant that the girl hadn’t seen a lot of kindness in her life.

The silver haired woman smiled gently. “It was no problem, Arry, honestly. We have enough food… Well, enough to feed one more, at least.” She looked around for a moment and picked up the full plate she had put down earlier, holding it out for the younger woman.

The girl’s face was hesitant, but a grin was beginning to break out, “Thank you, milady, but you really shouldn’t ha- is that boar?”

Before Daenerys could even react, her companion had already grabbed the plate from her hands and went to sit down on one of the rocks next to them, happily chomping away at the large piece of meat.

The Queen watched her for a moment, amused at the girl’s enthusiasm, before she decided to join her, placing her torch somewhere in between them so she could continue to watch the other woman.

The two were quiet for a moment, the only sounds coming from the waves beating against the cliffs and Arya’s eager munching.

The former assassin couldn’t believe how well this night was going. First she had been able to scare the Queen, the Mother of Dragons, and now this?

“Amazing,” she smiled, licking her fingers.

A chuckle came from her right. “You seem to enjoy it, Arry?”

Arya wondered if she should tone it down a bit, but the look on the other woman’s face seemed more amused than disgusted, so she figured there was no harm in eating however she wanted to.

Besides, thieves didn’t need to eat like Ladies.

So she grinned, wiping her mouth a bit with her hand. “It’s really good. Best meal I’ve had in…” She actually tried to think about it, but because most memories of good food were also memories of people she lost, she stopped and shook her head, trying not to let her emotions show.

“Well, ever, I suppose.” She grinned again, and although the Queen had a pensive look on her face for a moment, it quickly faded.

“I’m glad you like it,” Daenerys smiled again, and Arya felt like she was getting lost in the intense look in the woman’s eyes. “You can always get more, Arry. Like I said yesterday, if you’d like you could come inside the castle. We could-“

“No thanks.”

The young Stark had interrupted her very quickly and simply continued eating. It was only a few seconds later, when there was no response from the other woman, that she looked up and saw the queen’s expression – her eyebrows raised high in disbelief, the look of someone who was not used to being interrupted.

Arya quietly cursed herself - You’re a peasant talking to a queen, damnit! - and swiftly continued.

“I m-mean, no thanks, m-milady,” she stammered, trying to seem more respectful, her head bowed slightly, “I just…”

She sighed, both for the dramatic effect and to try and figure out a reason not to go inside, other than ‘Tyrion Lannister might recognize me as Arya Stark’.

When the Queen looked at her intently and swiftly followed up with “You just…?”, Arya knew she had no choice but to answer.

“I just don’t trust your people…”

It was clearly not the answer the Targaryen woman was expecting, but her expression seemed more questioning and annoyed than angry, which the former Faceless Man could work with.

“I’m sorry,” the older woman spoke, annoyance clear in her voice, “do you mean to say that you, the intruder on my island, don’t trust my people?”

Arya quickly made herself more apologetic. “No! No milady, not like that, not all your people, just…”

She looked down again, fiddling with the now empty plate.

Once more she waited for effect, and only continued when she heard that Daenerys opened her mouth to speak.

“I just don’t trust the one, actually. Your dwarf.”

When the younger woman looked up, a nervous look on her face, she could see puzzlement on the queen’s.

“Lord Tyrion?” she asked, incredulous. “And what reason would you have to not trust the Hand of the Queen?”

Arya frowned. “He’s a Lannister,” she said bitterly. “I don’t need any more reason.”

She looked on ahead, waiting patiently for the Queen to continue so she could follow up if needed, but the other woman’s next question surprised her.

“Was it the Lannisters that killed your family?”

The Stark’s head whipped to the side, her frown growing deeper.

How could she know-

“I guess that look in your eyes answers my question.”

Arya’s breathing was speeding up, despite her efforts to keep herself calm and collected.

“How-?” she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, she grinned bitterly. “Not a bad guess, milady. I suppose guessing the Lannisters killed my family was a good one, seeing as they killed most families in Westeros.”

A sad smile appeared on Daenerys’ face. “Although that is most likely true, it was not why I thought so…” Empathic violet eyes met with uncertain grey ones. “After what you said yesterday, about kings and queens killing mothers and fathers and children…”

Arya cursed herself again, but kept her expression schooled.

“Well, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

The former assassin looked into the other woman’s eyes for a little while longer, before finally tearing herself away.

“Yeah, well… That’s why. Lannisters are arseholes, and I want nothing to do with them.”

The queen chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly, but I do agree: aside from Tyrion, whom I trust completely, the Lannisters are all assholes.”

Surprised at the Targaryen’s words, Arya turned around again, a smile on her face.

“Is a queen even supposed to say words like that?” she asked, amused.

“What?” the silver haired woman replied, an equally amused smile on her face. “’Asshole’? Of course I can.” She straightened herself and held her head high. “I am the rightful Queen of Westeros. I can say anything I bloody want to.”

Arya couldn’t help but laugh, and when she looked at the Queen, the woman quickly followed suit.

The laughed together for a few moments, both looking at the other and starting off again, but after a while of feeling genuine joy for the first time in ages, Arya felt a familiar sting.

Something inside her that told her this wasn’t right. That this wasn’t what she should be doing.

So after a bit she stopped laughing and looked forward again, frowning.

“If I may ask, milady…” When the other woman didn’t stop her, the girl continued. “If you hate them as much as I do, why haven’t you killed them yet? I mean-“ she quickly went on when she saw that the Queen intended to interrupt her. “You have dragons! Three of them! You could fly over to King’s Landing, burn down the entire city and be back again in less than a day!”

The remark surprised Daenerys. It was something she had been thinking since day one, something Tyrion had been advising against.

So she shook her head. “I can’t do that, Arry. There are so many innocent people in King’s Landing… Despite their current loyalties, they’re still my people.”

The girl seemed to consider her words, but quickly spoke up again. “Fine, so don’t burn down the entire city. Just fly to the Red Keep and burn that! Burn Cersei and every other Lannister in their own home!”

The younger woman seemed to become more passionate by the second, a darkness growing in her eyes of which Daenerys knew she should be wary.

“And are there only Lannisters in the Keep?” She asked, watching with interest as her companion seemed to try and control her anger. “What of the soldiers, sons and husbands and fathers? What of the cooks? The maids? The children? Would you slay all of them, just to kill one?”

“Why not? Wouldn’t you?” Daenerys was surprised at the girl’s words, and became even more surprised as she continued. “If that’s all that stands between you and your throne, why not kill them? What’s a few hundred people in a city when you would finally rule the Seven Kingdoms? What’s a few hundred people to a Queen of thousands?”

There was an intensity to the other woman’s dark grey eyes, an intensity that made her want to agree.

After all, this was what she had been saying since the beginning: why have dragons when you don’t even use them?

But it was only now, when this girl she had only just met was saying everything the Queen had wanted to hear, that Daenerys knew what Tyrion had been saying all along.

“You are not wrong, Arry… But I am not here to become a leader that is feared by her people before her reign has even started.” She sighed. “I am not here to become Queen of the ashes… Burning the Red Keep, however logical it may seem… I simply can’t do it.”

There was a look of disappointment on the girl’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a determined look.

“Then let me do it.”

The Queen blinked. And blinked again.

“You- what?” She asked, a shocked frown on her face.

“I’m serious,” the other woman said, eagerly. “Let me do it. You could teach me how to fly one of your dragons, and then I could take it over to King’s Landing and deal with the Lannisters in your place.”

When Daenerys wanted to respond, Arya quickly interrupted. “They wouldn’t need to know you had anything to do with it! Just say your dragon was stolen, by a witch or something, or one of those Lord of Light type of people, they’re weird enough, and say that you never intended for anything like this to happen!”

She had a wild grin on her face when she stopped talking. “We’ll burn Cersei Lannister alive, and you’ll finally have your throne.”

For a moment, the Queen considered her words.

The thought of having everything taken care of for her, of finally getting her throne without the waiting, and the planning, and the botched alliances, was alluring, to say the least.

But the moment passed, and the older woman shook her head with a smile.

“A kind offer, Arry. Strange and a bit disturbing” she put her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder “– but kind.”

Arya looked at the warm hand on her shoulder, feeling a bit weird by the tingly feeling she got from it, but quickly brought herself back to the matter at hand.

“So… No burning King’s Landing to a crisp?” she asked, trying to make it sound like it had been a joke, like she hadn’t been hoping that the Targaryen would agree to her crazy plan.

The older woman chuckled and took her hand back. “No burning King’s Landing… Sorry.”

The young Stark let out a dramatic sigh. “Ah well,” she said, shrugging, “I guess it was too much to hope for. Too bad though, I really wanted to ride a dragon.”

She had said the last part as an afterthought. To her, the plan had already failed and the game was up for the night.

Daenerys noticed the words though, and seemed curious.

“Really? Even after meeting Rhaegal the other night?”

Now it was Arya’s turn to look puzzled.

“Rhaegal? What is- Wait, did you name your dragons?” She was suddenly getting excited again, a smile growing on her face.

The Queen looked amused. “Of course I named them, they’re like my children.” She smiled as she thought of her dragons. “The green one, the one you met yesterday is named Rhaegal, for my brother Rhaegar. Then there is the white one, Viserion, that I’ve named for my other brother, Viserys. And then the black one is Drogon, for…”

She paused for a moment. Arya could see from the look on the woman’s face that this last one was a hard one.

Someone she lost probably. A lover I suppose.

The former assassin considered waiting for a few moments. She knew that this kind of information was best extracted by allowing the subject to keep talking.

But for some reason, she felt like this information was not needed if it caused the other woman this much pain.

“Those are good names, milady.” Arya said, a gentle smile on her face. “I should have known you would have named them. They’re such amazing creatures, it would be wrong not to give them names.”

Daenerys smiled, thankful that the girl had not forced her to continue. “They are indeed amazing. But what amazes me as well is that you still speak of them so positively, as if you weren’t almost killed by my Rhaegal yesterday.”

Glad the woman was lightening up, the girl shrugged. “He didn’t mean to, though. I mean, I was just stupid enough to get in front of his food. Anyone would kill over something like that, doesn’t make him less amazing though.”

The Queen shook her head again. This girl never ceases to amaze me…

When she looked up again and saw the younger woman still smiling brightly at the thought of the dragons, an idea suddenly popped into her head.

“Arry,” she said, a grin growing on her face, “how would you like to meet my dragons – for real this time?”

Chapter 7: Connection

The moonlit night was completely silent, aside from the occasional dragon shriek and the vague sounds of the sea in the background.

The silence even surrounded the two women that were sitting by the cliffside, a small torch lighting their now halted conversation.

The silver-haired woman looked amused at her younger companion, whose mouth had now been open for a solid 5 minutes.

“How would you like to meet my dragons – for real, this time?”

Arya could not believe her ears, and although a part of her knew that she had been sitting there without moving for a long time now, another part of her was still processing the Queen’s words.

“Would you like to meet my dragons?”

After minutes of complete silence from the other woman, Daenerys finally sighed dramatically and began to leave.

“Well, I suppose that’s a no then… That’s too bad… Maybe you’ll find other dragons someday and get a new chance to meet those…”

It took a moment for the younger woman’s brain to catch up, but by the time the Queen was already walking away from her she suddenly snapped out of her stupor.

“Wait!” She shouted, scrambling to get up and catch up to the older woman. “Wait, no, I’ll meet them! Shit… Hang on…”

In her panicked enthusiasm she had knocked over the rest of the food, and was now trying to wipe the dirt from her trousers as fast as she could, happy that the darkness was at least hiding how red her face was right now.

Some assassin you are, she thought to herself as she stumbled not once, but twice, over her own feet as she ran over to the very obviously amused Queen.

Daenerys smiled as the frazzled girl joined her.

“I take it you do want to meet my dragons, then?” She asked as she continued walking toward the feeding ground, looking unfazed but sneaking amused sideways glances to the younger woman.

Arya sighed, feeling slightly annoyed at the other woman’s tone, but even more annoyed at herself for losing her cool like that.

“I-“ she started, but then decided to take a deep breath and regain her focus. When she did, the frazzled girl was once more replaced with her put-together persona.

“Pretty clear that I am, right, milady?” she answered with a grin, her tone playful.

The Queen was still watching her close enough to notice the subtle change in the girl’s demeanour, and although she decided not to comment on it right now, she did make a mental note of the sudden switch.

The two walked on in silence, Daenerys regally gliding across the field with her head held high, her now calm companion right next to her, occasionally glancing up at the sky.

When they reached the feeding ground, the girl’s glancing increased, and although she wasn’t as nervous as before, the Queen could sense that the younger woman’s excitement was growing once more.

As they stopped, she noticed that the girl couldn’t contain herself anymore.

“How’re you calling them?” the words were spoken a bit too quickly to make Daenerys believe the collected face they were spoken with. “Do you just yell at them? Do you have a whistle? Or mayb-“

Arya didn’t even get to finish her barrage of poorly-disguised nervous questions. A swiftly growing sound of large wings was quickly followed by three separate, loud thumps as the dragons landed around them.

She swallowed drily, her heartrate up at least as high as it had been the night before.

In the faint light of the torch the Queen was carrying she had not seen the animals flying up to them, but when they hit the ground she had practically felt it in their bones.

Daenerys smiled once more, her eyebrow arched at the flabbergasted look on the young woman’s face.

The girl stared open-mouthed at the humongous beings before her, their large eyes flickering brightly in the light of the flame, their colourful scales glowing in the darkness.

After a few moments of silence, Arya finally regained her senses, and could almost feel the other woman’s intense eyes on her.

Blinking, she turned around. “How… How did you do that?”

The Queen, who had been watching the young woman’s response closely, endeared by the honesty in the girl’s impressed face, was glad that she was still seeing that same honesty now.

She smiled, gave the torch to Arya and moved closer to Drogon as she spoke.

“I’m not sure, to be honest…” she said, reaching out as the black dragon automatically put his head down towards her. “It’s hard to explain… There is a … A connection between us, I suppose. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I can sense them…” She moved over to Viserion, very aware of the mesmerized grey eyes that were following her every move. “And I suppose they can somehow sense me too… Not all the time, but when I need them, or they need me, I know…”

Daenerys smiled to herself, and when no response came from the other girl, she turned around.

The younger woman was still standing in the same spot, unmoving. In the faint light of the torch the Queen thought she saw a flurry of emotions crossing the girl’s face, ranging from wonder to sadness, even to anger.

She wanted to point them out, but by the time she was close enough to fully see the girl’s face, they were gone.

The silver-haired woman sighed, but quickly smiled again. “I suppose it is a bit complex, I’m sorry… I don’t think there’s a way I can make you understand what it’s like.”

Arya, however, did.

She remembered what it was like, with Nymeria. She remembered the connection, the way they had spoken to one another without words, the way she could feel her wolf at any time, whether they were in the same room or not.

Even now, she could feel a faint tickle in the back of her brain, a part of her that said that Nymeria was still alive, somewhere.

She understood perfectly.

“Probably not”, she answered, trying to regain her bearings as she half-grinned. “It sounds pretty convenient, though.”

Daenerys sensed the shift again, but she noticed it wasn’t as heavy as it had been earlier so she followed the girl’s smile.

“That it definitely is…” When the other woman, despite being plastered to the same spot, began craning her neck to get a better view of the dragons, the Queen chuckled.

“Would you like to meet them now, Arry?”

Arya’s eyes went wide, and the older woman could tell it was more with excitement than fear.

“Is that-“, the young Stark began to ask, her heartrate speeding up once more, “would that be okay?”

Daenerys smiled again. “We didn’t come all this way just for you to stare at them, did we? Come on…”

Before Arya even knew what was going on, the Queen had already grabbed her hand and began pulling her towards the green dragon.

Although the younger woman was very much distracted by the warm, soft hand that was holding her cold and calloused one, she quickly frowned and fought hard against the urge to pull her hand away and stay put.

“The… the green one, milady?” She asked, more nervously than she had wanted to. “Wouldn’t… I mean, isn’t he probably still mad at me? About last night?”

The silver-haired woman stopped right in front of the dragon, but kept her hold on Arya’s hand.

She smiled. “There’s no need to be afraid, Arry. I’m here, and I promise I won’t let him hurt you.”

The words, although spoken mostly jokingly, meant more to the young assassin than she wanted to.

She was happy that her red face wasn’t too noticeable in the faint light, and coughed before speaking.

“Er… Right, yes, obviously…” Not used to the warm feeling, she quickly made an impulsive decision.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not afraid then.”

And before the Queen could stop her, Arya pulled her hand from her grasp and stepped up to the dragon.

Rhaegal was startled by the girl’s sudden movement and growled, but, to Daenerys’ surprise, that didn’t stop her companion.

Her nervousness apparently fully gone now, aside from the slight tremor in her outstretched hand, the young wolf inched closer towards the dragon, until finally she could touch his head.

With a growing smile, the older woman watched the exchange; the young girl’s gentle touch, the look of wonder on her face, and the way her dragon seemed to allow the caress, even leaning into it for a split-second, before he had enough and took to the sky again.

Arya didn’t take her eyes off him as he flew up… She couldn’t.

Her fear was completely gone the moment she had touched him. There was something to him, more than just the raw power she had seen before, something…

“Amazing, isn’t he?”

The Queen’s kind words, accompanied by the warm hand on her shoulder, brought her back to earth.

“Yeah…” Arya answered, still at a loss for words.

Daenerys looked intensely at her for a few more moments, until she finally shook her head, smiling.

“What?” the younger woman asked, puzzled.

Her companion merely smiled. “Nothing, it’s just…” The amused look was replaced by one of genuine admiration. "I've never seen anyone react that well to my dragons… Especially not after nearly being killed by one.”

Arya shrugged, looking up at the sky again, hoping to catch another glimpse of the dragons.

“To be honest,” she spoke after a few seconds of silence, “I hadn’t expected to be this calm around them either. But being so close to him- to … Rhaegal, right?”

She looked at the Queen for a moment for confirmation, and when the other woman nodded she looked up again and continued.

“Being so close to Rhaegal made me realise something; when I first saw your dragons, I saw only the power. The power they wield, the way they can burn armies and cities, the destruction they can bring…”

Daenerys could see the darkness in the girl’s eyes grow again, but said nothing.

“But-“ the young Stark continued, the darkness fading into wonder again, “They’re more than that… More than death and destruction, way more even, they are just… just such beautiful creatures… It’s amazing…”

The Queen should have gotten used to the way the girl shocked her by now, but she had done it once more – no one, not even her trusted advisors, had ever seen more in her dragons than their power, their deadliness. And for this girl to even call them ‘beautiful’, a term only she had used for them… It warmed her heart.

She opened her mouth to comment, but before she could, the younger woman continued.

“In a way,” the girl said, her eyes still focused on the figures flying above them, “I had the same thing with you… Except that I saw your beauty before I noticed how powerful you are… Or maybe that power is part of what makes you so beautiful…”

Daenerys blinked a few times, her mouth falling open, a warmth spreading across her cheeks.

Despite how dishonest the younger woman might have been in their encounters, she knew by the look on the girl’s face that she had definitely spoken the truth… In fact, the lack of any indication that she noticed she had said such a thing made the Queen realise that the girl probably didn’t realise she had said anything.

So when she got over the initial shock, the silver-haired woman chuckled.

“So... You think I’m beautiful, Arry?”

Her voice was so low that it took a moment to register with Arya, and even when it did, the words didn’t quite make it to her brain.

It was only when she turned around and saw the shit-eating grin and the arched eyebrow that the former assassin realised she had been saying her thoughts out loud.

Fuck.

“I-… Well, I-“, she stammered, her face now becoming so red that she was sure the Queen could see it, even in the darkness.

Hells, she was sure they could see it from the castle… Boats at sea could probably see her face flashing like a lighthouse.

When she began opening and closing her mouth like a fish, Daenerys couldn’t take it anymore and simply burst out laughing.

She couldn’t help herself, and couldn’t stop herself when the younger woman was looking at her indignantly.

In fact, that frustrated look her face made her laugh even harder.

Although Arya was kind of pissed that she was being made fun of, the silver-haired woman’s laughter was endearing, and frankly a bit contagious even, so after a while she couldn’t help but join her.

“Oh, shut up,” she joked, laughing as well.

When she was met with a raised eyebrow, she crossed her arms. “Fine, shut up, milady… Better?”

The Queen grinned. “Not really, but I’ll allow it… Just this once.”

Arya smiled as well. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed this genuinely. Somehow, that thought brought her back to the reality of her situation.

Here she was, laughing with Daenerys Targaryen on Dragonstone, in the middle of the night, when Cersei Lannister was miles away, comfortably sleeping in her royal bed.

What am I doing… she thought to herself, quickly sobering up.

It took Daenerys a bit longer to notice the shift in the other woman this time. Her amusement quickly died away though when she saw that the girl’s expression changed from genuinely amused to… still amused, but somehow… not.

“Is everything alright, Arry?” she asked, a frown growing on her face.

The younger woman, for her part, smiled. “Yeah, milady, it’s just… Getting late, and I’m pretty tired.”

As the girl looked up at the moon, the Queen tried very hard not to follow her gaze and to stay focused on her companion, but she couldn’t help but follow, and when she did her eyes went wide.

“Damn,” she exclaimed, annoyed at herself, “it’s well past midnight. Missandei will be worried sick…”

She glanced back at the castle, and then looked at the other girl again, who was now watching her calmly. Daenerys felt a slight twinge in her heart, a sense of loss she couldn’t quite explain, as if she already missed the honest girl she had now come to know, even though she was standing right in front of her.

“You should head back to the castle then, milady… Goodnight.” The younger woman nodded curtly, a real-yet-unreal smile on her face, and turned on her heel towards the cliffside.

For some reason the older woman didn’t really understand, that part of the woman in front of her – the part she considered the real Arry – was pushed away now.

And somehow, in some way, she wanted to see that girl again.

“They’re more beautiful in the sunlight, you know!” Daenerys had spoken quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth the moment she thought them.

At the edge of the light her torch emitted, she noticed the other woman pause in her steps.

Taking a deep breath as she watched the girl turn around, the Queen continued more calmly.

“The dragons, I mean. You’ve only met them in the dark so far, but they are much more impressive in the light… Perhaps you can come back here an hour before sunset tomorrow… Maybe you could even fly on one of them?”

Daenerys tried very hard to keep herself collected, but the hopeful tone in her voice when she spoke those final words betrayed her.

The girl, for her part, didn’t say a word, but before she disappeared into the darkness, the Queen was sure she saw a small nod.

It was enough for the silver-haired woman, who smiled softly as she turned back toward the castle.

Chapter 8: Purpose

The sun was well past its highest point, but despite it being a cloudless sky, a cool wind was blowing from the North, turning the air cold.

Outside the castle walls the island was quiet, with only the sea and the dragons breaking the silence, as well as the occasional sound of a rock hitting the beach.

Sighing, Arya threw another rock down, adding to the large pile she had already amassed during the day.

The young Stark had barely slept last night after her meeting with the dragons, so when the sun finally began to rise she had quickly crept out of her hiding spot and had perched herself atop the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling down.

She had been looking out at the sea the entire day, throwing rocks and thinking.

Hard.

She grabbed another rock, rolling it around in her hands.

What am I supposed to do… she thought, for the hundredth time that day.

The former assassin had pictured it so perfectly: gain the Queen’s trust, learn how to fly a dragon, steal a dragon and have it kill Cersei Lannister.

She had pictured burning the woman on her balcony, in her bed, on her throne, she had even at times pictured one of the dragons simply eating her.

Granted, the plan relied on things that could easily go wrong, but still, at least she had a plan.

A way to finally scratch the last names from her list.

But now, though…

Frustrated, Arya squeezed the rock hard before adding it to the pile, barely even noticing the satisfying noise it made when it hit the other stones.

She sighed again.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go…

She wasn’t supposed to actually feel something…

She wasn’t supposed to be in awe of the dragons…

Or the Queen.

But here she was, a useless assassin who had failed to keep her goal in mind.

In a way, she was angry at herself. A part of her told her to push through, to ignore the feelings that were bubbling up inside of her and to stick with the plan.

After all, the Queen had already proposed flying the dragons with her. Rhaegal didn’t hate her, with the Queen’s help he could probably get used to her.

If she wanted to, Arya could be flying the animal and using it to cause the death and destruction she had longed for in weeks, probably.

But that was the problem: she didn’t want to use him.

Didn’t want to turn the dragon into a vicious killer like herself.

Didn’t want to abuse the Queen’s trust like that.

She just couldn’t.

And now she didn’t know what to do with herself anymore.

Yes you do… A small voice in her head told her. You need to leave Dragonstone, travel to King’s Landing and kill Cersei Lannister and Gregor Clegane.

Arya scowled, grabbing a bunch of rocks and tossing one after another, harder and harder, until she ended up throwing them so aggressively that she almost fell down the cliff.

Panting, she scooted back so that her legs were no longer dangling off the cliffside.

Placing her head in her hands she looked down, trying to get herself together.

But what if I don’t want to?

She knew she should leave Dragonstone and head for King’s Landing right away. She knew it.

Her list was finally almost completed, her family redeemed.

But something inside her rebelled. For the first time since that horrible day in King’s Landing, the list wasn’t what was on her mind.

Instead of names and brutal deaths, her mind was filled with images of the dragons, as well as Daenerys Targaryen.

“So... You think I’m beautiful, Arry?”

She kept picturing the woman’s face, her grin as she had said those words, and even now, a day later, her face still went red at the thought.

“Damn it!” She shouted, trying to chase the image from her mind as she stood up.

Determined, she walked back to her camp.

That’s it, she thought as she began packing her stuff. I’m done. There’s no use in me staying here. I’ll hop on a boat again, sail back to shore, steal a horse somewhere and find my way into King’s Landing.

Sheathing Needle back into its position on her belt, she tossed the last of the food the Queen had given her into her bag and strapped it to her back.

If I sneak to the shore now, I should be there by the time it’s dark, then I can steal one of the boats.

She climbed out of her hiding spot, giving it one last look before beginning to move.

They’re not even nearly as watchful of their boats here as they were on the other shore, so it shouldn’t-

Her mind stopped when her gaze brought her to the feeding ground, a place where her eyes often wandered on this island.

Shit…

There, in the middle of the field, stood the silver-haired woman.

Even from where she stood, Arya could see the Queen had a large smile on her face as she looked up.

Before long, the small figure of the woman was joined by her three large dragons.

 “They’re more beautiful in the sunlight, you know!”

The woman’s voice rang in her head again, making the girl feel a pang of sadness as she looked at the animals, their colourful scales reflecting the sunlight beautifully.

She had to go. She knew she did. Her mind screamed it at her: it was the only way she could finish her list.

But, for the first time ever, Arya didn’t listen to her head.

Instead she followed her heart, unsheathed her sword, put down the bag, and ran towards the woman and her three dragons.

By the time she got there, she was out of breath and was met with an amused-looking Queen.

“Did you run all the way here, Arry?” the Queen asked, arching her eyebrow as a smile made its way to her face.

Arya panted, wiping the sweat off her face as she half-grinned. “I- er… I thought I was too late?”

 “Well,” Daenerys answered, amused at the girl’s frazzled state, “you were cutting it a bit close…” she said, stepping towards her younger companion and putting her hands on her shoulders, “but regardless, I’m happy you came.”

The young Stark felt her face heating up again, both at the words and the touch.

“Me too,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

Daenerys was surprised at the answer. After last night, she had expected having to find a way to find her Arry again, the real girl, not the mask…

Yet here she was. The older woman didn’t know what had happened, but she was glad to see the honest look on her new friend’s face.

She did notice that she might have been staring a bit too intensely at those honest grey eyes, though, when the girl suddenly coughed nervously.

“Ahem… So…You already called the dragons I see.” The younger woman walked out of her grasp and towards the dragons.

Daenerys chuckled and turned around, smiling when she saw that her companion immediately went to Rhaegal again.

The animal didn’t step back this time, and instead allowed Arya to caress him from his head down his neck.

“Getting used to that quite quickly, aren’t you, Rhaegal?” the Queen asked as she joined the girl, caressing the animal on the other side of his head.

Rhaegal let out a small huff at that, emanating a bit of fire from his nostril, but the young wolf wasn’t even fazed.

Instead, she grinned. “I’m glad. I like having him used to me. He’s an amazing animal.”

“Amazing indeed,” Daenerys said, although her gaze was focused more on her companion than on her dragon.

When she noticed the eyes on her, Arya became uncomfortable again and quickly changed the subject.

“So…” she said, stopping her ministrations and rolling up her sleeves. “How do I do this?”

The Queen was confused at the words.

“How do you do what, exactly?” She asked, frowning.

The younger woman stepped back a bit, a frown on her face as she took in the dragon.

“How do I fly him, of course!” Daenerys almost fell over in shock when she heard her say that, but the young woman simply ignored her, or maybe hadn’t even noticed, and continued.

“Do I just climb onto his back? Should I sit below the wings, or more up his neck? Is it like riding a horse, should I get some sort of saddle, or-“

“You actually want to fly my dragons?” The queen couldn’t help herself, she had to interrupt her.

In all those years, only Daenerys herself had wanted to be close to the dragons that much. There was barely anyone willing to come close to her dragons, let alone fly them.

And yet here was this young intruder, this girl that had come out of nowhere, who was willing to do just that, who appeared to love the animals as much as she did.

It was a welcome change from the fear she was usually met with, and it warmed her heart more than she could describe.

The girl, for her part, was taken aback by the interruption, and suddenly a bit nervous. “I… I mean, yes? You did say I could, right? Or was I not supposed to…”

“No!” The Queen shouted, quickly trying to put the young woman’s mind at ease, “No, of course you can, in fact I’d love if you flew them! I just didn’t expect you to want to, that’s all!”

The insecure look on Arya’s face melted away at her words, replaced by a questioning look for a moment before she settled on a cautious half-grin.

“You’d love if I flew them?” she said, her tone playful, happy that it was her this time who was able to embarrass the other woman.

And she succeeded. Daenerys face swiftly flushed pink, which she tried to diminish by shaking her head.

When the girl didn’t stop grinning, she finally said: “Shut up…” Her voice was light, though, when she continued. “Didn’t you want to fly?”

“I do!” The grin was wiped away from her face so fast, the Queen almost thought it was a magic trick.

“That’s what I thought.” Daenerys smiled, turning around to Drogon. The animal immediately stuck out his wing for her to climb.

“We’re not flying Rhaegal?” There was a bit of disappointment to her voice Arya herself didn’t quite understand.”

The Queen shook her head as she sat down, gesturing for the girl to join her. “Rhaegal can be… unpredictable at times. Perhaps we will fly him some other time, but for your first time I believe Drogon is the safer choice. I usually fly on him, so he follows my lead the best.”

Arya nodded, and cautiously made her way up the dragon’s wing, nerves pushing their way through her self-confidence quickly.

When she was almost there, she looked anxiously at where the older woman was sitting and paused, hesitating.

“What should I… Where should I…?”

Before she could finish her sentence, her companion grabbed her arm and pulled her down behind her, chuckling.

“Oomph!” the girl let out unceremoniously. “That wasn-t-”

“Hold on tight,” Daenerys interrupted, not giving the younger woman a chance to get nervous again.

“Wait, where do I-“ Arya stuttered, the nerves getting the better of her, but when Drogon flapped its powerful wings and took to the sky, the young woman stopped thinking and simply wrapped her arms around the Queen, holding her so tight that at any other time she might have been worried that she was hurting the woman.

Now, though, as the wind was picking up around her and she saw the ground from higher and higher up, her mind was far away from considering the older woman’s comfort.

Holding her breath, Arya held on for dear life, not sure where she should look.

It was only when the dragon reached some altitude and they were flying steadily that the young wolf released her grip a bit and looked around.

Her heart swelled when she saw the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen. The ocean was glistening below them, reflecting the orange hues that coloured the sky.

There was nothing around them. In the distance, she saw the castle, even further the mainland, but the further they went, the more those places disappeared from her mind.

As the wind caressed her face, Arya felt more at ease than she had in years.

More at ease than she had ever felt.

She closed her eyes, allowing the feeling to wash over her. When she breathed in, she could smell the ocean, but also the woman she was holding onto.

Leather and fire…

It was a smell that reminded her of home, for some reason, and suddenly Arya wished that she could fly to Winterfell. Fly back into the past, to when her family was alive.

To fly home.

“Are you alright, Arry?” The voice suddenly pulled her from her musings, and she quickly pushed away her feelings.

“Yeah, fine…” she answered, hoping that the Queen would see the crack in her voice as caused by the wind.

When she felt Daenerys place her warm hand on her own, caressing it lightly, Arya knew that the Queen didn’t believe her.

“I just…” she said, trying to get her thoughts back together, but the hand on hers as well as the body that she was so comfortably leaning onto were too distracting for her to come up with any lie.

“I just don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” the former assassin finally admitted, a sigh escaping her lips as they followed the other two dragons toward the sunset.

Daenerys couldn’t see her face when the girl said that, but this time there was no doubt in her mind that the girl had spoken the truth.

“Me too, Arry… Me too.”

Chapter 9: Timing

The sun had already gone down a while ago, and darkness had completely sunk in.

A cold wind was blowing across Dragonstone, but Arya didn’t mind at all.

She was seated on a large rock across from Rhaegal, grinning as she tossed him chunks of meat, which he impressively set on fire right before it landed in his mouth.

It was a crazy sight, the small woman sitting in the darkness, an enthusiastic smile on her face that could only be seen in the light of the enormous dragon’s fire.

To the young Stark, though, this had become a routine she very much enjoyed.

She had by now spent two weeks on the island, and in those two weeks she had been with the queen and her dragons every single night.

Every evening Daenerys would come to her, Arya would eat the food she brought and they would spend some quality time with the dragons.

Often ‘quality time’ involved feeding them, but even more often they would fly them.

Over the course of 2 weeks Arya had flown with Daenerys on all three dragons, and the last couple of days the other woman had let her fly on Rhaegal on her own.

And although the girl very much – too much, probably – enjoyed flying behind the Queen, being able to fly Rhaegal on her own, following as the Queen rode on Drogon, was even more amazing.

Arya looked at the castle longingly and sighed when she looked back at Rhaegal.

But not tonight, I suppose…

The younger woman was usually the first at their spot by the rocks, and was by now used to waiting for the Queen to be finished with her official duties.

Daenerys couldn’t always make it an hour before sunset, but she had always made sure to arrive at least before dark.

Today, though…

Arya glanced at the castle again. She wasn’t really worried; after all, the only times the Queen was not surrounded by guards was when she was with her.

But still.

Should I go see?

Before she could, though, her attention was suddenly back on her current companion when Rhaegal shrieked indignantly.

The girl grinned again.

“You’re right, Rhaegal, we can worry about the Queen once your stomach is full. I’ll try and set my priorities straight!”

The green dragon huffed, and Arya shook her head as she tossed him the last big chunk of meat.

When he had fried and eaten it, the young wolf stood up and went to caress his head.

“Maybe we should tell your mother to set her priorities straight too…” she mumbled when her stomach growled loudly.

Rhaegal huffed again, which made Arya’s hand pause its ministrations.

It was like he understood her, like he got every word she said.

The young woman knew it was ridiculous, but looking into his large yellow eyes, she just felt like there was some kind of bond between them.

The Stark girl was pulled from het musings when suddenly the other two dragons appeared next to her.

A large smile began to grow on her face when she heard the rustling of grass behind her, but she didn’t turn around.

Instead, she said mockingly: “I thought Queens were always on time?”

“No,” the voice behind her sounded tired, but there was a cheerful part to its tone as well, “I said a Queen is never late, Arry. That’s completely different.”

Arya chuckled and turned around.

Daenerys looked stunning as always, her silver hair glowing in the light of the torch, a soft smile gracing her face.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Arry.”

By now the former assassin should have gotten used to the completely honest kindness the other woman showed her, but her heart still fluttered when she heard the heartfelt words.

“It’s no problem, milady… As you said, a Queen is never late.”

The queen chuckled. “Just so, Arry, just so. And we’ve been over this: we’re friends. Please just call me Daenerys. I call you by your name, you call me by mine.”

At those words, Arya could feel a familiar knot forming in her stomach.

For a few days now, the young Stark had been feeling like this wasn’t right. Daenerys had been opening up to her more and more.

When the woman had asked her to call her by her real name, Arya had felt special. It had felt intimate, in a way, when she’d called her ‘Daenerys’.

The way the silver haired woman had reacted, the way her face had suddenly lit up, had made it even more intimate.

And Arya could imagine why: the Queen was never addressed by her real name. It was always ‘your Grace’, ‘Khaleesi’, ‘my Queen’,…, but never ‘Daenerys’.

Just like she had always been ‘Arry’, ‘boy’, ‘Lanna’, ‘No One’, but never ‘Arya’.

So for a few days now, something inside of her was pushing her to tell the Queen.

To tell Daenerys her real name, tell her her story, to let the woman in.

To hear her name on the older woman’s lips.

Not just ‘Arry’.

I’m not Arry. I am Arya Stark of Winterfell.

“Right,” she said instead, smiling sadly, “Of course, Daenerys. How could I forget.”

The frown growing on the other woman’s face told Arya that she had noticed something was off, so the girl quickly continued.

“Are you alright, though, Daenerys? Aside from how late you are, you also look exhausted? Did something happen?”

When instead of some painfully personal and hard-to-dodge questions the Queen let out a loud sigh, the former assassin knew she was safe.

“You don’t even want to know the day I’ve had.” Daenerys plopped down on the rock, motioning for Arya to join her. “You remember the parties we sent out to the different Houses, to convince them to pledge their allegiance?”

“I remember,” Arya smiled mischievously, “the ones Tyrion Lannister wanted you to join, so that you could convince the lords in person instead of via envoi, but you refused because… Why exactly did you refuse again?”

The older woman’s face went red, to Arya’s pleasure, and her eyes darted everywhere but in her direction.

The Queen had told her about Tyrion’s plan to convince the Houses, and she had also immediately told her she wouldn’t be going, despite what her advisor said.

And although her excuse remained the same –

“I told you, Arry,” the woman said, her eyes fixed on Viserion as she spoke, “it wouldn’t have been safe for me to join them.”

- Arya felt, hoped, that it was because of her presence on Dragonstone that Daenerys didn’t want to leave.

“And I was right.” The young Stark mind was brought back to the serious woman in front of her when she spoke again.

“Apparently, the meeting with the lord Bracken was a trap. The moment they entered the castle walls, my men were attacked. Grey Worm only barely made it out alive with a handful of Unsullied…”

“Shit, Daenerys,” Arya said, shaking her head, “I’m sorry…“

She fell silent when she saw the other woman shake her head in defeat.

“I just can’t believe how stupid we were, thinking a known supporter of the Lannisters would suddenly jump ship.”

“Perhaps,” the girl answered, trying to be a bit more positive, “but desperate times call for desperate measures, right?”

“But a Queen shouldn’t be desperate!” Daenerys suddenly jumped up, becoming increasingly frustrated. “I am the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms! I have returned to Westeros months ago, by now the Iron Throne should have been mine!”

Arya watched the woman silently as she continued.

“The alliances we had? Destroyed by Cersei Lannister? We try to make new alliances? Again, botched because of Cersei Lannister! Fucking Cersei Lannister!”

She shouted the last part, which made the silence fall on the two of them even harder afterwards.

After a few moments where the only sound was that of Daenerys panting to catch her breath, Arya spoke again, tentatively.

“Well, I wouldn’t go as far as to fuck Cersei Lannister,” she said jokingly, carefully gaging the Queen’s reaction and glad to see that the tension in her back was melting away at the words, “But I feel like punching her would definitely by a great alternative.”

When she saw Daenerys’ shoulders relax and she heard her huff, the young Stark knew the other woman was calm again.

“Oh, punching her would be an excellent alternative.”

The Queen turned around, smiling at her thoughtful companion.

“Thank you, Arry…”

Arya, happy her plan had worked, grinned back at her. “What for? I didn’t do anything?”

Daenerys shook her head, stepping closer to the younger woman again. “For calming me down… For making me feel normal, in a way.”

She was standing so close now it was making Arya feel nervous.

The tension was quickly broken, though, when a loud rumbling suddenly emerged from the girl’s stomach.

After the initial surprise, the two women quickly began to laugh, until realisation dawned on Daenerys.

“Oh Gods, your food… I forgot to bring you your food!”

The woman looked shocked, and even angry with herself, so Arya quickly intervened.

“It’s fine, you had a rough day, don’t worry about it! I can easily go without food for at least a week, so it’s-“

“No, it’s very much not fine!” The Queen looked even more upset than earlier. “I am so sorry, Arry, I can’t believe I forgot your food. I’ll go get some right now, you just wait right here.”

“No, Daenerys, it’s much too late, don’t worry about, just bring some extra for me tomorrow!”

“No, I will not allow you to go one day without eating, I’ll bring you something right away!”

The Queen was already hurrying away, when Arya, without even realising it, suddenly shouted out: “What if I simply went with you?”

This stopped Daenerys in her tracks. She turned around, wondering if she had heard correctly.

“You… You want to come to the castle with me?”

Arya shrugged, nervous all of a sudden.

“I mean… If you want me to, that is… I could, maybe, come inside to eat, so you don’t have to come back out here…?”

Recognising the insecurity in her voice, the Queen quickly smiled and responded: “Of course you are welcome, Arry! You’ve been welcome since day one! I just thought, with Tyrion there…”

The young Stark was indeed still very nervous about being found out by Tyrion Lannister, but the thought of joining Daenerys was too exciting to pass up.

And if the Queen found out… Maybe that wouldn’t be the end of the world for Arya…

“I mean, it would be great if we could maybe not run into him,” she said, half-grinning, “but I think it should be alright.”

“More than alright, Arry.” Daenerys smile grew larger than ever when the younger woman joined her. “More than alright.”

Notes:

Thank you very much for reading.
I'm sorry about the shorter chapter this time around, I'm still trying to get back into the flow of the story, but I feel like it's been going very slowly... Next week should be a more interesting chapter.
Thanks again!
- Dithemo

Chapter 10: Interrupted

Notes:

It's been 7 years since I updated this fic. At the time, I had a general idea in mind for the story, but just wrote what came in my mind and posted immediately. But in this 10th chapter I had written myself in a corner. I tried to get out of it in the former 11th chapter, but it wasn't what I wanted for my story. Back then, I came back to this fic a few times, but every time I tried to fix my mistake I just couldn't.
Now, 7 years older, the story is still on my mind as 'the one I couldn't finish', and I really wanted to finish it. So I decided to scratch the part I hated, the part that messed it up for me, and to rewrite it. And so here we are now.
I hope there are people who might still read this story and like it, and if not, at least I will like it now.

TLDR; messed up 7 years ago, wrote a part I didn't like, this is me fixing it

D - 30/04/25

As they walked towards the castle along the dark pathway, Arya’s anxiousness was quickly overshadowed by her excitement.

She tried to keep it contained, of course, but the more Daenerys talked about Dragonstone as it came closer, the more the smile on the younger woman’s face grew.

Without even noticing it, the girl began to speed up, looking up in awe at the massive stone dragonheads that were coming in sight, the light from the torches around them casting astounding shadows over the entire entrance.

The Queen followed her, albeit a little more slowly, a soft smile on her face as she watched her awestruck companion rushing ahead.

When they finally reached the gate, Arya’s steps suddenly became smaller, until she finally came to a full stop.

Her grey eyes scanned the gateway, almost trying to absorb everything she saw.

This was it.

This was the castle she had dreamed about her entire childhood back in Winterfell.

She walked over to the stone dragon and put her hand on it, caressing it as she would Rhaegal.

“Not quite the same feeling as the real thing, is it, Arry?”

Broken from her stupor, Arya looked up. She locked eyes with the Queen and grinned softly.

“No, not at all.” She said, her hand still caressing the stone. “But it looks so… real, somehow, I almost thought it would feel as warm as Rhaegal does.”

When Daenerys responded to her comment with one of those intense smiles she sometimes threw her way, the young wolf decided to let go of the dragon.

“Still, it’s pretty impressive, though. This whole place is just incredible” the girl said as she continued their path through the gate to the palace.

If the Queen noticed the evasive manoeuvre she said nothing of it, and instead joined her companion again.

“Indeed”, she said, while she nodded at the Unsullied that stood guard to let them through. “I had the same reaction when I first saw this gate. I have gotten used to it by now, but this place is still incredible.”

Arya nodded at the woman’s words, but although she tried to listen to the Queen, her instincts got the better of her. She subtly glanced at the silent warriors that lined the pathway, alert for any kind of move they might make, cursing herself for leaving Needle at the campsite as she did whenever she met with Daenerys.

When at a nod of their Queen the men barely even glanced her way, Arya felt like she could breathe again, and took in all of her surroundings.

“Wait till you see the inside, Arry. The rocks make the castle very dark, but there are many dragon-sculptures, and when lit by the fire as they are now it makes for a beautiful sight.”

Looking at the older woman as she spoke, watching the enthusiastic look on her face, Arya couldn’t stop her cheeks from turning a little pinker than she would have liked.

“I’m sure it does,” she said, forcing herself to look away from the woman before she could notice that her thoughts were nowhere near architecture when she had said that.

Stepping into the castle, though, their sightseeing tour was quickly cut short by a voice calling out.

“Your Grace!”

Arya’s heart almost stopped in her chest, and she felt a cold chill creep along her spine when the footsteps drew closer.

Too close… the former assassin thought when she saw the tall, dark woman coming in their direction.

She swiftly calmed her breathing and slowed down, expecting her companion to do the same, but when Daenerys simply continued to walk, Arya followed.

“Missandei”, the Queen said calmly, smiling at her clearly confused friend. “I trust you are well tonight?”

It was almost comical to the young Stark, the confusion on the woman’s face as she looked back and forth between her Queen and the scrawny person she had brought with her.

To her credit, though, Missandei immediately followed along, bowing. “I am well, Your Grace, I have simply been looking for you for quite some time now…”

The translator paused, clearly waiting for an explanation, casting nervous glances at the intruder that was still following them.

Arya, for her part, could only grin to herself when the Queen simply continued walking. A wolfish grin which, of course, did nothing to help ease the distraught woman’s nerves.

The three of them continued to walk through the castle, following Daenerys’ confident strides.

After a few more moments of silence, though, Missandei’s nerves clearly couldn’t take it anymore.

“Your Grace-“

Before she got a chance to finish her sentence, though, the Queen stopped, turning around toward her advisor.

“Missandei, if you would please have the cook prepare something for my friend here. We’ll be eating right here in the small dining room, but I would like to ask you not to let anyone disturb our meal. Especially –“ Daenerys quickly glanced at her friend “- not Lord Tyrion.”

The taller girl, though frowning, bowed. “Of course, Your Grace, but…”

Clearly, she had more questions, but there was something in her Queen’s face that made her pause.

Missandei was no fool, and she knew her Khaleesi well enough. For days now the woman would leave the castle in the evening, sad, angry, frustrated,… But somehow she would always come back late at night with this calm, almost shyly happy look on her face.

The same look she could see right now.

So the advisor merely smiled, vowing to herself to get to the bottom of this later, and bowed again. “Of course, Your Grace.”

When Missandei left the room after having given the necessary instructions to the servants, Arya finally took a deep breath.

“Whew,” she said, pretending to look around the room, although her attention was mostly focused on the silver-haired woman, watching as her queen-persona peeled away again and a smile appeared on her face. “That was… Almost stressful, to be honest.”

Daenerys smiled as she watched the younger woman take in the room, her hands mostly behind her back, occasionally touching the walls, although her grey eyes focused more often on her than on anything else.

“You needn’t worry about Missandei, Arry. She is a close friend of mine, I trust her completely. She will not let Tyrion disturb us.”

Arya nodded, turning around to face the other woman. “She didn’t know about me,” she said, a curious look on her face.

It wasn’t a question, but the Queen still felt the need to answer.

“She did not.” Daenerys said, shaking her head slightly.

“Why not?” The question was asked without thinking, but when Arya saw the frown forming on the other woman’s face, she quickly continued. “Not that I don’t appreciate the secrecy, Daenerys, I do, truly.”

She scratched her neck, unsure of how to continue. “It’s just… You’re the Queen, she’s your advisor and your friend… I mean, I asked you not to tell the Lannister, but what stopped you from telling her?”

Daenerys sighed, her face a bit sad as she sat down. “To be honest, Arry… At first, it was because I didn’t trust you entirely… You seemed… dangerous, somehow.”

Honest violent eyes met with closed-off grey ones.

Ouch… The admission hurt Arya in a way she hadn’t expected. But even she knew the woman had been right not to trust her.

“That’s fair, actually”, the girl said, to the queen’s obvious surprise. “Some suspicious girl arrives on your island, I mean, I get it… But then, why would you still meet me?”

“I’m not sure… You intrigued me, I suppose…” The older woman sighed, a sultry smile on her face. “Perhaps I simply like danger.”

The young Stark blinked a few times at the words, then chuckled. “I suppose… You do have three dragons.”

She put her hands behind her back again, a small frown on her face as her thoughts continued. “And what about now?”

Arya suddenly felt nervous when she asked the question, her hands clammy, although she tried to hide how important the answer was to her.

“Now?” Daenerys smiled one of those radiant smiles at her companion. “I know you now, Arry. And I trust you completely.”

The leap her heart made was enough for Arya to feel like it was going to jump out of her chest. Even if she tried she could never have hidden the large grin that was growing on face right now.

“But you still hadn’t told her about me?” Arya didn’t know how she had managed to ask the question with the emotions bubbling up inside her. “Why?”

The silver haired woman shook her head, her smile mirroring the one on her companion’s face.

 “Because I wanted you all to myself.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds, and although Arya felt like she wanted to hear them over and over again, her increasingly reddening face was grateful when servants walked in with a full plate of food and some wine.

Silence hung heavy in the air as the two placed the plate in front of the younger woman and filled both their cups. Even when the Queen ordered them to leave, Arya didn’t dare move, afraid the moment would truly end.

After a few minutes, though, Daenerys had enough. “We woke up the cook in the middle of the night to prepare this food for you, Arry… Might be best not to let it go cold.” She said, amusement evident in her voice.

Arya finally broke out of her trance at the words and, feeling as if she was going in slow-motion, moved towards the table and sat down.

As soon as she had the food in front of her, though, her hunger got the best of her and the slow-motion ended.

Like every night these past weeks, the young woman ravished her plate as though it was the best food she had ever eaten, and the Queen simply watched as she did so.

Normally, Arya couldn’t care less about the proper etiquette, but now that they were inside the castle she paused after a few moments.

“I’m sorry, Daenerys…” she said, trying to sit up a bit straighter, wiping her hands on a piece of bread.

Daenerys, for her part, looked surprised. “Sorry?” she asked, still smiling sweetly. “What for, Arry?”

Arya shrugged, an apologetic grin on her face as she looked down. “For having to watch me eat like this. You must be disgusted…”

She had said it jokingly, but with the last word she even stung herself.

“Hey…” the older woman said, putting her hand on her companion’s chin, to make her look her in the eyes again.

When sad grey eyes met honest violet ones, she continued. “You could never disgust me, Arry. I quite enjoy the way you eat. You always look so happy, as if this is the best food you’ve ever had, and I love that.”

Arya felt like she was melting away at the words and the light touch on her chin.

“But,” the Queen went on, a pained look in her eyes, “on the other hand, it also makes me sad… It makes me sad to think that this might indeed be the best food you’ve ever eaten. It makes me sad to think that you might have gone days, weeks even without food.”

Her warm hand now cupped the dumbstruck girl’s face completely, her soft fingers caressing her cheek. “I know so little about your past, Arry… The things I know are enough to make my heart ache for you, and I’m quite sure that I don’t even know the worst of it…”

Cloudy grey eyes stayed locked with violet ones as the warm hand continued its path to Arya’s neck.

“You don’t need to tell me about those dark parts of your past, Arry, not unless you want to… But I promise you, as long as I live, you will always have a safe space beside me.”

Arya swallowed drily, a tear rolling down her face at the words of the Queen. Her eyes were locked into the honest violet ones, but after a while she had to look away, a wave of nausea hitting her hard.

This isn’t real, Arya thought to herself warily, she doesn’t know who she’s talking to, doesn’t know who I am… It can’t be real, because Arry isn’t real.

She felt the hand that cupped her face pull away and glanced a look back at Daenerys; the older woman’s eyes still shone with emotion, but sadness was the prevalent one now.

But what if I want it to be real…

Before the Queen could pull away completely, Arya reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it between them. She felt the warmth on her clammy palms, as she tried to recover the eye contact she herself had broken.

When she rubbed her calloused thumb softly across Daenerys’ hand, the other woman locked eyes with her again, sadness still visible in them, as well as an unspoken question.

“I’m sorry, Daenerys, I…,” Arya mumbled out, trying with all her might to organise the thoughts that were milling through her head, but failing to do so.

Daenerys saw her struggle and placed her other hand on top of the younger woman’s, giving it a slight squeeze.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Arry… I’m sorry if what I said was too much, too soon.” The Queen saw the emotions playing across the girl’s face, sure she had never in their time together seen them so clearly, but because of the multitude of feelings she was sure that she couldn’t read them properly. “If what I said offended you then I’m sorry, but truth be told… I meant every word.”

The young assassin shook her head at that, more tears escaping her. “It wasn’t you, Daenerys, the problem isn’t you… It’s me.”

The Queen watched with great interest as Arya closed her eyes and took a deep breath; she waited, allowing the girl a moment to collect her thoughts, and felt her heart beat loudly in her chest when determined grey eyes opened again, and their owner nodded to herself, before becoming completely serious.

“When I came here,” the young assassin began, her voice beginning softly, but growing louder and more certain as she spoke, “It was on impulse. An impulse born from seeing you and your dragons up close.” She paused, remembering that day by the Roseroad, weeks ago now. “Following you here, sneaking onto the island, meeting your dragons, and then you… it wasn’t calculated… It was barely thought out, and the only thought going through my mind back then, before we… before I truly got to know you, was ‘if I had a dragon, I could kill anyone that wronged me.”

Her eyes grew dark, a darkness Daenerys had indeed noticed those first few encounters. But she didn’t pull away. The silver-haired woman simply nodded, and squeezed the cold hand in between her own again; she would not shy away from the truth, now that the girl in front of her was finally willing to give it to her.

“I had visions, and hopes, of flying into King’s Landing, of burning every. single. person. in the Red Keep,” she continued, darkly, emphasizing her words, “of making Cersei Lannister suffer as I have suffered, of making her look on, for once, as the ones she loved most were brutally murdered in front of her.”

The dark-haired girl was clasping her hands so hard, Daenerys was worried she might hurt herself, so she began stroking her, trying – in vain – to relax them again.

“It’s wat she deserves, is what I thought,” Arya said bitterly, “It’s what all of them deserve, after everything they’ve done… Because of them, my entire family has suffered… Because of them, all of my kin are dead… Because of them, … I’m all alone. I have been alone for so, so many years…”

The darkness was gone now, even the anger making place for a deep sadness that the Queen felt like a stab in her own heart.

“But, because I hadn’t thought my plans through,” the younger woman shot her a small smile, “I had failed to consider two things… The first was: your dragons. I think I told you as much when I first met them – officially met them – “, she added with a glint in her eye, recalling her first and almost fatal meeting with Rhaegal, happy to see the same glint of amusement mirrored in those violet eyes, “I had only seen their power before… I had seen them as a weapon, a tool for destruction, but I was wrong…” Arya shook her head, remembering the exact moment. “They are beautiful and wonderful creatures, and powerful aids when needed, … but they are not weapons of mass murder. I may have that kind of darkness inside of me, but I could never bring myself to… to turn any of your dragons into the kind of monster I have become…”

The girl looked down again in sadness, and this time the Queen couldn’t stop herself.

“You’re not a monster, Arry,” she said, one of her hands cupping the girl’s cheek again.

The young assassin leaned into the warmth for a moment, cherishing the warmth she felt there, but shook her head then, causing Daenerys to pull her hand back.

“You don’t know that, Daenerys… You don’t know who I truly am, the things I’ve done to survive… And the things I’ve done for revenge.” At her final words, the grey eyes were fierce, but the older woman didn’t let herself get deterred.

She clasped her hands around the girl’s again, and asked: “And what was the second thing?”

Those grey eyes widened in surprise at the question, seemingly confused why the Queen had forgone asking about what made her a monster, about her past, and instead had wanted to continue their earlier conversation.

Daenerys, for her part, was determined. She was curious, certainly, about the girl’s past. But something in her felt it was important for her to get the full story, to focus on the essence of why she was here, and what she so desperately wanted to tell her, before going into the dark parts of her past.

So she repeated herself. “You said there were two things you had failed to consider before coming here. The first thing was the dragons themselves, but what was the second thing?”

The other girl’s mouth opened and closed for a moment, lost in her own derailment of her story, but then she visibly calmed down again, and nodded with a small smile.

“The other thing… was you, Daenerys…”

The Queen’s heart almost beat out of her chest at the words, and at the emotion she saw pooling in the grey eyes in front of her. But she didn’t speak, waiting for the younger woman to continue.

“I had never thought to meet you here. The first time I saw you on the Roseroad, and then when we first met that night here on Dragonstone, I assumed you were just another Queen like Cersei Lannister and her lot; stuck-up, safe in her ivory tower, with no regard for anyone but herself.” The girl glanced up apologetically, as the Queen arched her eyebrow, “Obviously, I was wrong. Even that first night, without knowing me, without possibly being able to trust me, you took the time to come back and bring me food… It was so unexpected,… I would not have expected such an act of kindness from just about anyone, but least of all from a Queen.”

Another squeeze from Daenerys, as her heart ached once more for this girl that had clearly not known much kindness in her life.

“The next day, even, you came again, with food, and a possibility to meet your dragons, and it just… hit me.” Troubled grey eyes looked up again. “It hit me that I didn’t know what I was doing here. Ideas of burning down King’s Landing with a dragon were long gone, and on top of that you were just so kind, and thoughtful, to someone who was just a girl, some thief on your island. I hadn’t had a conversation so free and light with anyone in many months, perhaps even years, and it just completely threw me. The next day, I wasn’t sure what I would do. I spent the entire day pondering, growing more and more certain that being here held no purpose for me, that I simply had to leave, that Cersei would have been long dead by now, had I not taken this detour to Dragonstone..”

If the Queen was surprised by the last admission, she barely showed it, but Arya didn’t notice her reaction regardless, too caught up in her own story now.”

“I was packed up and ready to leave, but then I saw you there… In the middle of the field, your smile even brighter than the fading sunlight… And I dropped all my belongings and joined you.”

The young assassin shook her head again, amused and distraught at herself. “It’s ridiculous, I know… For years I had a mission, a list of names to finish, and many plans to follow… But for you, Daenerys, I forwent years of waiting and planning. I’m not entirely sure why, all I know is that these past few weeks here, with you, … were some of the happiest of my life.”

The silver-haired woman’s heart swelled at the words, and the honesty with which they were spoken. But she didn’t dare speak, especially when she saw the other woman swallow drily across from her, her grey eyes downcast again.

“But it felt wrong, because it wasn’t… real,” Arya said carefully, quickly continuing when she saw the Queen frown across from her, not wanting her to misunderstand, “Not that those moments weren’t real, Daenerys, they were. And I was as truthful as I dared to be, but there was one important thing, that I didn’t dare be truthful about… At first for fear that you, like the others, would try to use me, and then as we got to know each other better, for fear that you, of all people, would hate me…”

The girl sighed deeply, knowing it was finally time to come clean.

“Like you, I have been given many names… In my case, mainly because using my own name has proven in the past to…” she paused, thinking back on all that had happened to her, “well, let’s just say nothing good ever happened when I used my own name. I have been a boy for many years, I have been no one for a number more… The name Arry”, she looked up and tried to find anything in those violet eyes, but noticed the Queen’s face was unreadable now, “is one of those, a name I have taken many years back, when I was just a child, trying to flee King’s Landing after my father’s murder.”

She took a deep breath, and straightened her shoulders. “But it isn’t my real name, Daenerys, and I no longer want to pretend to you that it is. If you hate me for it, then so be it, but I want what we have, or at least, what we had these past few weeks, to be real. And it can only be real, when you know the real me…”

Determined grey eyes locked with puzzled violet ones, as the younger woman let go her hands and stood up, taking a knee in front of the Queen.

“My name is Arya… I am Arya Stark, of Winterfell, and I am yours to do with as you wish, Your Grace.”

Chapter 11: Decisions

Daenerys was completely dumbfounded at the admission. She had not known what to expect when Arry – no, Arya, she knew now – began speaking, and had felt every emotion imaginable during the entire time the girl had been speaking.

Most things came as a shock to her, although at the same time part of her knew already.

Knew that the young intruder hadn’t been truthful in the beginning.

Knew that there was a darkness inside of her.

Yet it still felt like a betrayal. A Stark, daughter of the man who betrayed her father, living right under her nose, befriending her, without ever telling her who she was. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, the girl had lied to her, had gotten close to her… And Daenerys had let her.

The anger and bitterness came easy to her… It would be so easy for the Queen to call her guards, to have the Stark girl arrested, to imprison her, to kill her even if she so desired.

As she looked at the woman bowing before her, Daenerys felt shocked at her own thoughts.

Kill her?

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts again, once more focusing on the wolf bowing before her, trying to recall all she had said the past weeks, as well as the words she had spoken in these past moments.

Recalling, without much trouble, the feelings of happiness she had felt every time she had looked upon that face these past few weeks. The joy she felt whenever she had the time to be near the woman in front of her.

“I am yours to do with as you wish, Your Grace.”

The older woman realised that Arya knew, and almost expected Daenerys to react badly upon the news. Even now the girl still bowed down, a calm look on her face that spoke of complete acceptance of whatever the silver-haired woman wished to do.

It struck Daenerys, then, this acceptance. As if the girl knew what would be going through her mind, as if she knew the anger that would follow.

“… for fear that you, of all people, would hate me.”

The Queen stood up abruptly, but the girl barely reacted, she only looked down, awaiting her fate.

“This was… a lot to take in, … Arya,” the older woman spoke softly, and she saw puzzled grey eyes looking up at her words, her reaction clearly not what the girl had expected. “I will need time to process everything.”

Daenerys paused, and watched as Arya stood up deflated, nodding to herself, as she made to leave.

“I understand, Your Grace, I will no longer bother you. You have my word.”

Before she could take two steps, however, a warm hand on her shoulder stopped her. As she looked back, she was taken aback by the worry she saw in the violet eyes.

“I fear you misunderstand me, Arya. I need some time now, yes, but I do not want you to leave me for good, to leave this island and…” She squeezed the younger woman’s shoulder. “Even if this is difficult for me to take in, my feelings haven’t changed.” A flicker of hope was visible in those deep grey eyes. “I meant what I said earlier: as long as I live, you will always have a safe space beside you. I promise.”

And with that, the girl nodded, bringing a calloused hand to gently touch the soft hand on her shoulder, before giving a slight bow.

“Then I hope, with all my heart,” the girl said, a small and honest smile on her face, “that I will see you again soon. Good night, Your - … Good night, Daenerys.”

And with those words, Arya exited the room, leaving the Queen to her troubled thoughts.

__

 

It was late at night, all of Dragonstone was silent, save for the Queen’s chambers.

After all that had happened, Daenerys had tried to keep herself composed as she went back up to her room, smiling and nodding at the guards and the few servants that were still awake as she passed them. It was only when she closed the door to her room behind her, and saw the expectant and kind look of her closest friend, who was clearly waiting for her to come back, that she had broken broken down.

Now, a few hours later, the Queen had told Missandei everything; from her first meeting with the girl she now knew was Arya Stark to their eventful conversation earlier that evening.

Her tears had by now dried, partly due to her translator’s help, but her emotions were still far from calm.

“I simply don’t know what to do, Missandei,” she said, frustratedly, as her friend tried to calm her down by gently combing her hair.

Daenerys was seated in front of a mirror, her regal clothes replaced by a more regular -albeit silken – night shift, Missandei standing right behind her. The silver-haired woman looked in the mirror, making eye contact with her closest friend, pleading her for help.

Missandei, for her part, smiled back kindly. “I understand, Your Grace. The matter is not easy, ...”

The Queen threw her hands up in exasperation. “No, it bloody isn’t, what am I supposed to do now. I-“ She was about to go on another tangent, as she had done these past few hours, going mad with the information she had received earlier.

How the girl had lied to her.

How Daenerys had known she had lied to her, but was still intrigued by the person she saw in her honest moments.

How she was an intruder she should never have allowed on the island, or allowed to get close to her.

How amazing the girl had been with her dragons, and how good it felt to see her become close to them.

How the Starks had betrayed the Targaryens in the past, and how this could not be forgiven.

For the past few hours, Daenerys had gone back and forth, expressing all thoughts she had on the matter, but by now the thoughts and feelings had become repetitive.

So, before she could start again, Missandei stopped her with a pointed look.

“The matter is not easy, Your Grace,” the scribe started again, her expression making it clear that she had more to say, “But if I may speak freely?”

The Queen nodded silently, urging the other woman to go on.

“A few weeks ago, you were frustrated. You were angry. You tried to hide it,” Missandei quickly added, seeing the indignated look on her queen’s face, “but I know you. I could tell, it was eating you up.”

She stopped combing the other woman’s hair, and put her hands on Daenerys’ shoulders, a warm smile on her face as she continued. “And then one night, you ran away, needing to be alone. And when you came back that night, and every night since, you seemed calm.” The taller woman squeezed gently, “Happy, even, especially these past few weeks.”

Missandei walked around the chair to face the Queen, and went on her knees in front of her, clasping their hands together. “You have lost so many things these last few years, Khaleesi… To wars, to politics… I don’t want you to lose this new happiness you found to a betrayal that happened so many years ago, when the girl that makes you happy wasn’t even born yet to be a part of it…”

Her eyes pooled anew with tears, as Daenerys gave a soft smile at Missandei, and the translator continued.

“You deserve to be happy, Khaleesi. And if this woman, whatever her name may be, makes you happy.” The translator wiped away a stray tear from her cheek, and smiled, “Then, please; let her.”

__

 

The sun was coming up on the east side of the island, giving the misty waters surrounding it a glowing red-and-orange hue.

Arya looked out from her place atop the cliff, unphased by the fact that she had sat there all night, unmoving, going over the past evening over and over again.

The emotional rollercoaster of the previous night had left her empty, but at the same time with a small feeling of satisfaction. Despite everything, despite the anger and sadness she had seen in the Queen’s eyes, she was glad that it was finally out in the open.

She still had many secrets left to tell, of course, many she wasn’t sure she could ever share.

But now she could finally be seen for who she really was.

If Daenerys came back to her – and that was a large if, in the assassin’ opinion – it wouldn’t be for a person who didn’t exist… It would be for her.

She sighed and moved her head to her shoulders, cracking her neck as she did so, to then move the rest of her body, trying to shake the cold that had entered her legs and arms by now.

I should go to camp and get some sleep, Arya thought to herself, although she stayed right where she was. If by a stroke of luck, the Queen does come and see me tonight, I want to at least be somewhat rested…

Before she could stand, however, she noticed footsteps behind her.

Without turning around, her hand – as by habit – went to look for a weapon on her belt, but couldn’t find any.

What good would it do me anyway, Arya thought, prepared for the worst. If Daenerys wants me dead, well… Valar Morghulis.

She sighed, waiting for the footsteps to come closer, but as they did, she noticed it was only one person approaching her. No clanging of armour, just one person with very soft footfalls.

As she heard them stop a few feet behind her, Arya held her breath, her heart beating loudly in her chest, hoping against hope that it was her.

“Hello, Arya.”

The voice she thought she might never hear again was behind her, but Arya still didn’t dare to turn around.

When nothing else was said, though, the Stark girl spoke, trying – but failing – to keep her voice from cracking with emotion.

“Daenerys…” swallowing drily, she turned around, fearful of what she might find in those violet eyes.

The silver haired woman stood in front of her, a warm blue cloak around her shoulders, and a soft smile on her face.

“I would say I’m sorry to startle you,” the Queen started, amusement clear in her voice, “but judging by your calm reaction, I have a feeling you heard me coming from miles away.”

Arya smiled back at her, a soft and hopeful half-grin. “Well, if the Dragon Queen tends to walk as loudly as her dragons land, it’s hard not to.”

The look of mock-shock was evident on the older woman’s face, as she exclaimed: ”Oh, really, wolf girl? Is that how you will address your Queen from now on?”

Her smile made it all too clear that she was joking, however, which filled Arya’s heart with joy.

She stood up from her place by the cliff, slowly getting feeling back in her legs, but trying not to let her discomfort show.

Her attempt failed though, which was immediately obvious by the look of worry the Queen sent her way.

“How long have you been sitting here, Arya?”

When the girl didn’t answer and simply rubbed her neck, Daenerys sighed. “Please, don’t tell me you’ve been here since last night…”

Arya shrugged and gave a half-grin. “I needed some time to cool down, you know, after our talk. And before I knew it…” she waved half-assedly at the sun coming up.

The older woman rolled her eyes at that, and quickly closed the distance between them, taking Arya’s hands in hers.

“Seven hells, Arya, you’re freezing!”

The young assassin could tell now, too, by the way the other woman’s warm hands seemed to almost burn hers.

“It’s fine, Daenerys, really,” she replied, at the same time happily letting her hands be warmed by the other woman, “I’m used to worse cold than this, truly.”

The Queen didn’t let up, though, and moved one of her hands to Arya’s face.

“Freezing as well… that does it,” she said, determinedly taking hold of the girl’s hand as she began walking towards the castle.

Too stunned to struggle, the assassin simply followed, “What- wait, Daenerys, what do you mean ‘that does it’? Where are we going?”

The older woman turned around, but didn’t stop walking.

“To get you a warm meal, a hot bath and a bed. And no-“ before Arya could interject, she immediately continued, “This is not negotiable, Arya. I will be damned if I let someone I care about sleep between the rocks any longer. Especially now that there is no more reason for you to hide away.”

Noticing the Stark girl’s frown, she went on: “You will have no trouble from Tyrion or any of my advisors, Arya, you have my word. You’ll be safe with me, I promise.”

And, although, after years of sadness, abuse and betrayal, every bone in her body screamed at her not to trust those words, her heart did. And so Arya grabbed the Queen’s hand again, and simply followed her inside.

--

 

Arya sat back against the tub, allowing the hot water to warm her chilled body completely. It had been years since she had taken a bath like this; the smell of scented flowers, the heat almost too hot to bear, but at the same time perfect to relax her aching muscles, …

She let herself be immersed completely, only the top of her head peeking out above the water as she was getting used to the warmth.

After their talk by the cliff, the Queen had led her inside. It was still early, so despite some curious looks from a few servants, and the silent Unsullied guards that lined the halls of Dragonstone, they hadn’t encountered anyone.

The former Faceless Man had simply followed, unsure of what to expect, but also impressed by all she saw in the castle. Before she had noticed it, Daenerys had led her up the stairs to a room, brought her inside, and had given orders to Missandei to arrange for a fire to be lit, new bed linens to be brought up, as well as food and a bath.

The Queen said her goodbye to Arya, explaining that she had to prepare for some meetings, but that she would be back soon, and that Missandei would take good care of her.

The tall summer islander had smiled at that, a knowing yet warm smile, which Arya, although somewhat confused, mirrored.

It all went extremely fast, servants moving in and out of the room as the young Stark stood there, dazedly looking on. At some point she was ushered in a chair, a bowl of hot porridge handed to her as the activity continued, and before long she was left alone, to stew in this hot, wonderfully smelling bath.

Despite the relaxing atmosphere, however, she seemed to be unable to end the stream of thoughts that was milling around inside her brain.

Thoughts about Daenerys, of course.

About what would happen now.

If things would change between them, and, if so, how they would change.

Thoughts about her goals.

About her list of names; if she should abandon being here in favour of going to King’s Landing, as had been her plan, her sole purpose even.

Arya sighed and dunked her head under the hot water, trying – yet failing - to calm her mind again.

When, after a few moments, it became hard for her to breathe, she came back up, gasping for air.

“Are you alright, Arya?”

In shock, the surprised assassin quickly spun around, to be met with a half-worried, half-amused looking Daenerys staring at her from the doorway. As she did, a great portion of the bath water sprayed out onto the floor.

“Seven Hells, Daenerys!”, the red-faced girl answered, rapidly sinking even more under the water, so she was certain only her head was showing. “I… I hadn’t heard you come in.”

The Queen looked amused at her flustered guest, and walked closer, carefully avoiding the puddles that had by now formed on the stone floors.

“I can tell”, she chuckled, her violet eyes twinkling. “I had knocked, although I suppose you didn’t hear that.”

Arya chuckled as well at that, outwardly again more or less unphased, while internally still trying to get her heartbeat back to normal. Something that was even harder to do, due to the situation she found herself in.

She – naked in a bathtub, with her clothes and a towel meters away.

The Queen – right next to said bathtub, a glint in her eye that spoke of both amusement and… something more.

“Yeah,” the younger woman replied after a while, glad that her voice came out even, “yeah, no, I didn’t.”

Daenerys smiled, trying to keep her eyes focused on those grey eyes, not… anywhere else.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” she acquiesced, stepping yet a little closer to the bathtub, although still trying to avoid the water on the floor, “I was in between meetings and simply wished to meet you for a moment, to see how you were faring. Everyone is treating you well, I hope?”

The young Stark nodded, her composure regained – despite the small hitch in her heart as the Queen stepped even closer.

“They are, Daenerys. Your translator – Missandei?” the older woman nodded at the question, “was very kind, in an impressive amount of time I was fed, given a room and a bath, even some clean clothes.”

Daenerys looked around the room then, nodding to herself when she saw what she supposed was a young man’s white shirt and leather trousers hanging on a chair a bit further in the room, next to a towel.

“Wonderful, I can always count on Missandei.” She smiled to herself, turning back to the young woman in the bathtub. “I suppose I will leave you to it, then, although I am quite jealous, seeing you sitting in that hot bath.”

Her eyes flickered down for a moment, and when she looked up again, the Stark girl’s raised eyebrow told her that she had noticed.

The Queen blushed a little, but smiled regardless. “I love baths, you see, the hotter the better.”

The other girl frowned for a second, before she grinned and almost looked like she wanted to say something.

But Daenerys quickly continued, interrupting whatever that might have been.

“Yes, I should leave you to it, I still have to meet with my advisors once more. I have told them about you, Tyrion and Jorah wanted to come down here straight away, but I told them not to, obviously. I have however promised them to ask you to join us all for dinner later, so a fair warning – they will probably have many questions for you, but-“ she continued with a half-grin when she saw the girl frown again, more seriously this time, “It is up to you how much you want to tell them, Arya… I told them they had to trust me regardless of what information you may or may not wish to tell them, and I will hold them to that.”

The younger woman looked very pensive, although she did give a slight nod at the Queen’s last words.

The older woman chuckled again, endeared by the dumfounded Stark girl, and stepped through the water up to the edge of the bathtub, to place her hand on the other woman’s face.

At this, Arya did react, surprised grey eyes quickly locking with amused violet ones.

“You’ll be fine, dear,” Daenerys said, pulling the girl’s head towards her and placing a soft kiss on her forehead, “It won’t be too bad, and remember; afterwards we still have a date with the dragons. So you’ll have that to look forward to as well.”

She caressed the even-redder-now cheek for a moment, before chuckling again as she turned around by the door.

“See you later, Arya.” Her eyes flickered down again, a soft smile on her face. “Enjoy the rest of your bath.”

The moment the door closed behind her, Arya slunk back against the bathtub, trying to regain control of her emotions. Failing to do so, she quickly grabbed a bucket of cold water and dunked it over her head, in a final attempt to cool down.

She took deep breaths as the cold water gave her system a shock, willing her heartbeat to calm down again.

What the bloody hell was that…

Chapter 12: Dinner

A few hours later, Arya had finally gotten herself together again.

The clothing Missandei had laid out for her fit her surprisingly well; they were a simple trousers and slightly loose-hanging shirt, but they were cleaner than the clothes she had been wearing.

She had been rather surprised when the translator had brought her those clothes earlier, expecting having to decline wearing a dress, but it seems the darker woman understood her very easily, a fact made even clearer when those warm eyes gave an understanding look as Arya accepted the outfit enthusiastically.

Feeling clean and refreshed, she had used the time alone she had to first look around the room, taking it in, as well as the windows which – conveniently – looked out upon the dragons’ feeding grounds. Occasionally, she could see them flying by, her heart still giving a little jump of joy every time they did.

 The room, albeit nice, could only hold her attention for so long, though, so after a while she decided to go out on discovery of the fortress; she figured Daenerys wouldn’t mind, but intended to go around unseen all the same.

Dragonstone, as she quickly discovered, was massive, with on the same level as hers two other bedrooms: a large and luxurious one – the Queen’s, she assumed, her heartrate quickening again at the thought – and a smaller one which she assumed belonged to Missandei.

The level below that included more guest rooms, some equipped, and others empty as hers had been only that morning.

She discovered more dragon statues, shimmering stone walls, on the ground floor hallways with servants walking around, a kitchen bustling with preparation for dinner, in the cellars an armoury – which the young assassin considered checking out in more detail later - and sleeping quarters for the guards.

The former assassin happily snuck around the castle, the excitement and focus of trying to remain unseen keeping her thoughts away from Daenerys and the upcoming dinner, at least for a moment.

She did at some point come across an empty throne room, the meeting room right behind it– she assumed, at least, judging by the animated voices coming from a door behind the throne – but, against her own habits, she decided not to try and listen in.

She figured she owed the Queen at least that much.

And thus, the day went by. Arya had just discovered a small library, when she heard the dinner bells ring.

She considered for a moment sneaking back to her room first but decided against it. After all, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t allowed to wander the castle.

So, knowing the way now, she immediately went to the dining hall, ignoring the curious looks a few guards who now noticed her threw her way.

The young Stark heard the Queen before she saw her.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” The woman’s anxious voice came from the end of the hallway, at the entrance to the dining hall.

As she quietly walked closer, Arya could see the silver-haired woman, her back towards her, and in front of her an anxious looking Missandei.

“I don’t know, Khaleesi, as I said, she is gone. She is not in her room, and I have asked around, no one has seen her all afternoon.”

“But how is that possible? She wouldn’t have just…”

The former Faceless Man watched as Daenerys put her head in her hands, and although she had found the worry endearing at first, she felt a pang of guilt now for making the woman believe that she may have run off.

“Don’t worry, Daenerys,” she said quietly, right behind the older woman’s ear. The Queen spun around, her eyes wide in surprise. “I was simply exploring your castle.”

Arya smiled as she saw the panic in Daenerys’ eyes subside, and shrugged apologetically. “I’m not really made to be cooped up in a room that long, but I should have told you, I apologise.”

The Queen could breathe easier again now; for a moment, she had truly believed that the young woman had simply left her. But watching the soft smile she had now, and seeing the truth behind the apology in those beautiful grey eyes, she knew she had been a fool to think so.

After a moment to think, the older woman smiled, and arched an eyebrow. “No apology necessary, Arya, I’m glad you’re here. But pray, tell me, how exactly is it that no one saw you?”

The other woman gave her a wolfish grin and a wink. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Behind her, Daenerys heard Missandei chuckle, and she shook her head.

“I would, and I will,” she said, giving Arya a pointed look, albeit still with a smile, “But for now, I suggest we drop this subject. Dinner is served, and the others are waiting for us.”

At that, the Stark girl nodded, accepting her fate.

“Lead the way, Your Grace.”

---

The three of them walked into the large dining hall, with Arya following behind the other two women, her face closed off and neutral as she took in her surroundings.

The room had the same dark stone walls as the rest of the castle, lined with large and lit candelabras; the ceiling was so high, even the dragons would have been able to comfortably fit there, it seemed.

In the middle of the hall there was a large table, hewn from the same black stone, where currently three people were residing, two of which didn’t bring the best memories to the mind of the former Faceless Man.

As the women walked in, the men stood up in their chairs, waiting for them to join them at the table. Arya kept her expression neutral and subtly observed the three men.

Tyrion Lannister… Short as she remembered him from when she was a child, but his face now carrying battle scars. He immediately looked at her as she walked in, looking her over, clearly linking the Stark girl from his past with the woman standing in front of him now. Unlike what she had expected, he didn’t look at her with animosity in her eyes, only a thinly veiled curiosity. Arya could tell from one glance that he had many questions, but was – for now- refraining himself from asking them.

Varys – the spider… She hadn’t encountered him many times in the past, but his face was exactly as she remembered – secretive and unreadable. She found, however, that if she watched closely now, she could recognize some expressions in his face. A twitch in his right eye as he looked at her, an almost imperceptible frown as his gaze went from her to the Queen, and back to her. Yes, the man was clearly as perceptive as the assassin was; cautiously analysing the new player in this game of thrones, as well as trying to puzzle what their relationship to the Targaryen was.

A dangerous man, Arya thought to herself, her eyes lingering on his light ones just a moment longer, sending him a silent threat, which she happily saw received by a very brief look of fear flashing across his face.

But I am even more dangerous.

The young wolf kept a grin at bay as her eyes landed on the final man.

Jorah Mormont… Former slaver, now one of the Queen’s most trusted men. He was the easiest to read, his look of distrust towards her so visible, she could have noticed it blind. Especially when she followed Daenerys, who motioned to the servants for a chair to be placed right next to her.

“Khaleesi,” he began, clearly disgruntled when space was made on the Queen’s right-hand side, putting Arya between Jorah and her. “Are you sure-“

“Very,” Daenerys interrupted him, giving him a pointed look. The old knight fell silent at that, but the scowl on his face remained very obvious.

When everyone had a place at the table, the Queen smiled and finally sat down, quickly followed by the others.

The large hall was silent as servants began going around, providing food and drink for the people gathered there.

There was a tense atmosphere, as the three men eyed their Queen, Arya, and each other, but no one dared break the silence.

For her part, the Stark girl’s face remained impassive, as she calmly ate the amazing food with as much gusto as she had the past few days.

Daenerys gave a small smile at her companion’s eating habits, glad they had not changed, but noticed her advisors were still silently judging the girl.

Rolling her eyes, the older woman decided she’d had enough of their antics.

“So, Lord Tyrion,” her voice rang out in the silence, finally getting the men’s attention. “You are acquainted with Arya, as I understand it?”

His eyes quickly flitted to the young wolf’s face, then back to the Queen’s.

“Ah, yes, Your Grace, well, as acquainted one could have been with a child of no more than 10 years, of course.” Tyrion spoke hesitantly, taking a large gulp of wine before continuing. “But we have met, yes.” He looked at Arya directly now, seemingly having found some courage at the bottom of his wine glass.

“A little tomboy, from what I recall, never very…” he halted as he watched her tastily eat some mutton with her hands, her grey eyes calmly locked with his. “… ladylike.”

As his cup was filled again, Daenerys chuckled.

“Not very ladylike, well, seems like you haven’t changed that much then, Arya.” She had noticed that her younger companion had closed herself off completely, and although she could understand why, with the situation this tense, she hoped to find a bit of her Arry.. Of her Arya again.

When the girl’s face remained a perfect mask, but she could see a small glint of amusement in her eyes, it was enough for the Queen.

On the other side of the table, Tyrion had downed his wine once more, before he spoke again.

“Yes and no, Your Grace,” he said, and Arya could see he was becoming bolder by the cup. “The Lady Stark has grown up now, of course, but also looks even more like her father than when she was a child…”

The Lannister looked away pensively as he went for some more wine, so he didn’t notice, but Daenerys could see a flash of murderous anger in the girl’s eyes as he spoke of her father.

Underneath the table, she subtly put her hands on the younger woman’s leg, hoping to calm her, but feeling the muscles tense regardless.

Before she could do anything to interject, the oblivious Tyrion continued.

“He was a good man, Ned Stark…” He said, sighing. “The best of us, no, better than all of us.” The Lannister locked eyes with Arya again, regret visible on his face. “What happened to him.. What my sister and my nephew-“ he spat out the word, shaking his head. “What they did was horrible, and the things they did after even more so.”

The table was silent for a moment, looking between the Lannister and the Stark.

After a few tense moments, Daenerys could feel the leg muscles relax beneath her hand, and she saw the girl nod.

“It was,” she said softly, an honest look of sorrow on her face, before the older woman could see it be replaced by a mask again. “And you’re right, he was better than all of us.”

A half-grin and a nod followed, which was mirrored by Tyrion.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said, raising his cup and downing it again, before he directed his attention to Varys. “Do you remember, in King’s Landing, there was a-“

As the conversation continued, the tenseness finally leaving the room, Daenerys squeezed the younger woman’s leg, trying to get her attention without being noticed by the others.

Arya’s face remained focused on the people in front of her, her expression once more impassive, but her left hand gently grabbed the other woman’s, squeezing it in turn.

The silver-haired woman turned her hand to fully grab Arya’s and pulled their hands into her lap.

At this, the former assassin couldn’t help but react; stoney grey eyes met concerned violet ones.

As Daenerys softly caressed the girl’s hand, her expression softened, and she smiled.

Their expressions both reflecting the same thing:

It will be okay…

 ---

“- And then, lo and behold, 10 days later, after everyone believed him dead, he walked back into the tavern, covered in mud and shit and blood and god knows what… And he just orders a beer, as if nothing had happened!”

Laughter filled the room, with Tyrion himself guffawing the loudest, spilling wine on Jorah next to him.

Although the evening had begun rather coldly, the men – led by Tyrion, as usual – quickly fell into their normal, free conversation.

Arya had not joined them, instead opting on calmly observing everyone around the table, as well as their environment – the grand hall making a big impression on her.

She was at ease now, not as much on edge as she had been in the beginning. The feeling of being under awkward scrutiny she had had in the beginning had faded, as the advisors paid her less mind, and Daenerys’ soft hands caressing her now and again had helped her to calm down immensely.

The Queen, for her part, had been largely silent, though at times she did feel that she needed to interject.

As she did now.

“Lord Tyrion,” she said strictly, when the laughter had died down, although even in her eyes the amusement was clear, ”Although that was a very… interesting story, I feel that it is perhaps time to settle down a bit.”

At her words, one of the wine bearers came down with a pitcher of water, and poured a large cup for the Lannister.

Arya looked, amused; this was clearly not the first time the Queen had done so, judging by the mirthful looks around the table and the enormous eyeroll coming from Tyrion.

“Understood, loud and clear, Your Grace,” he sat, sitting down more comfortably in his chair and, after sighing loudly, gulping the water down in one go, making a show of demonstrating to the others that he had finished it. “There, no worries, Your Grace, I am calm again.”

It had gotten late already, the sun had gone down, the young wolf could see, and she was anxious to go outside for a bit and go and see the dragons. A short look at the silver-haired woman told her that she, as well, wanted to continue their habitual nightly time with her children.

As the Queen began to speak, however, the inebriated Tyrion continued his monologue.

“Incredible, isn’t it though. I always loved those stories of people believed that and then suddenly showing up somewhere.” His eyes, though hazy, went to Arya again. “I had always thought them to be stories, wishful thinking from old widows, but here we are again.”

He grinned, pointing his – newly filled – water cup at the surprised assassin.

“I never thought I’d ever see one of those tales play out in real life, but you Starks really know how to surprise friend and foe. Four in the span of one year, how is that even possible.”

He chuckled in his cup as he spoke, but to Arya, she suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time. A dizziness overtook her, she was frozen in her seat and stared at the Lannister dwarf, too shocked to speak, as he continued.

“Truly, you showing up on Dragonstone after being believed dead for – what, seven years? That’s even more surprising than when we learned that the Boltons were defeated, and that the Starks had once more taken Winterfell.”

He kept chuckling, oblivious, but the rest on the table went silent as they saw the look on the young girl’s face.

“What-“, her voice cracked as she spoke, barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to quiet Tyrion down, an inquisitive frown suddenly on his face. “What do you mean? What.. Which Starks?”

Suddenly serious, Tyrion leaned over the table, locking eyes with Arya.

“Well, I assumed you knew..” he said, glancing somewhat guiltily at the Queen and back to the Stark girl. “The Starks have taken back Winterfell, Lady Arya. Jon Snow has taken the mantle of King in the North, and from what we know, he is joined by Sansa and Bran… Your siblings are back in Winterfell.”

Chapter 13: Stark Contrast

It took a moment for the words to register in Arya’s mind.

Your siblings are back in Winterfell.

But the moment they did, the news hit her like a ton of bricks.

She could barely feel a gentle, warm hand on her arm, but it couldn’t stop her.

She needed to get out.

Out of the room, out of the castle.

Out between the rocks.

Out, just out.

Arya ran as fast as she could, desperate for fresh air, and then desperate to just… keep moving.

So she ran through the halls, some guards tried to stop her, but, even in her current state, she easily sidestepped them.

She ran down the steps to the castle, across the grassy field, through the rocks.

She ran, and kept running, feeling as though her running would stop her mind from racing.

At one point, in the moonlit night, she realised that her feet had taken her to the edge of the island, to the cliffs.

She looked around anxiously, desperate to keep running.

What am I doing here.

Thoughts were jumbled up in her mind.

There was joy, because her siblings were alive.

Disbelief, because how could they be.

And guilt.

So much guilt.

What the fuck have I been doing.

She looked down at the water below her, glinting in the moonlight. In the darkness, she could hardly make out the sharp edges of the rocks she knew laid right below the surface.

What am I doing…

Arya looked down, her heart beating in her chest. Her hair slick with sweat, stuck to her face.

It was too much, the thoughts milling through her head, it was making her sick.

A loud screech finally shook her from her stupor; her head spun around quickly as Rhaegal landed right behind her.

Even in the darkness, she could see how his eyes searched hers, intelligence visible in them.

Her voice cracked as she turned towards him fully.

“What am I doing here, Rhaegal?”

The animal gave a soft screech, and put his head down on Arya’s level. Without thinking, the girl put her forehead to his, leaning onto him as she did so.

“What am I doing here…”

---

 

Guilt was also one of the main emotions Daenerys felt, as her young companion had fled the room.

When Tyrion had asked her “she didn’t know?” in surprise, she had felt so guilty.

All those weeks of talking, all those evenings in which Arry had told her that she had no one left.

For some reason, when she had found out Arry was in fact Arya Stark, the older woman had assumed that the girl would have known about the Starks in Winterfell.

But that was foolish; Arya had told her, explicitly, that she was alone in the world. That she had no one.

And the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind that she should tell her about them.

Kicking herself mentally, Daenerys had stood up immediately, ignoring Jorah’s attempt to stop her, saying that she should ‘let the girl cool down’.

She had seen the young Stark running faster than she had imagined, sidestepping guards with such grace, she would have been impressed if the situation had been different.

But before long, the Queen herself started jogging to try and keep up, through the halls, down the steps to the castle.

But then she was lost. The moonlit field was empty, no sign of Arya.

“Arya?” she spoke her name loudly, jogging towards the feeding ground were they usually met at night.

When she found that empty as well, she stopped, and shouted again.

“Arya!”

Her voice was becoming more panicked, and she looked around feverishly, but no response came.

What did follow was the sound of dragons dropping down next to her, clearly called by her worried shouting.

When she looked around her, she noticed that Rhaegal was not among them, only Drogon and Viserion stood next to her.

Because of this, she felt a flicker of hope, and quickly went over to sit on Drogon’s back.

“Find Rhaegal, my dear… Find Arya.”

They took to the sky together, but for once Daenerys couldn’t enjoy the feeling of flying, her stomach constricted by nerves.

It was only when she saw Rhaegal down by the cliffs, and the small person cradling his head, that she felt she could breathe again.

Drogon took her down quickly, gently landing between the rocks, a few metres away from the other dragon and the girl.

The young woman made no indication of noticing her as Daenerys stepped closer; Rhaegal as well kept his head down, but his eyes did follow her.

The Queen could see how flushed the other woman looked, how out of breath, the tearstains, the sorrowful look on her face, even though the girl’s eyes were still closed; her heart ached for this girl she had by now grown very fond of.

For a while they both stood there, the silver haired woman keeping a respectful distance, worry visible in het eyes, and the other woman lost in her thoughts, holding onto her dragon friend for dear life.

After a moment of standing still in the darkness, with only the sound of the wind around them, Daenerys couldn’t hold herself back anymore.

Very slowly, she walked over to the girl, afraid that even the slightest wrong movement would frighten her, would cause her to run away from her again. When she finally got close enough, she softly put her hand on the girl’s back.

“Arya?” she whispered, when the young Stark only stiffened at her touch, but didn’t respond otherwise.

The former assassin remained silent, but when Daenerys didn’t push, after a while she did respond.

“They’re alive… All this time, I thought they were dead… Gone, like the others. But they’re alive…”

She let go of Rhaegal, but still didn’t turn to face the other woman.

After a while, Daenerys gently but firmly grabbed her shoulder and turned Arya to face her. She kept one hand on her shoulder, to steady her as well as to keep her close, and with the other hand she cupped the younger woman’s face, guiding her to look her in the eyes.

“Yes, Arya, they are alive. I apologise, I wrongly assumed you knew…”

The guilt and remorse were obvious, but Arya didn’t respond to it, she only shook her head. Her grey eyes refused to focus on the Queen’s, instead opting to look down defeated.

“I am sorry, Arya, truly. I should have realised…” When the girl again didn’t answer her, Daenerys cautiously continued. “But this is good news, is it not? You have relatives who yet live…Your siblings have taken back your family home, and they are alive and well.” She caressed the girl’s face, but was halted when those grey eyes finally looked up, and she saw all the pain, and sadness, and anger.

For a moment, she was afraid the anger was directed at her, but she soon realised she was wrong, as Arya spoke harshly.

“And what have I done? What have I done for my family?”

She pulled away from the Queen, the anger bubbling up uncontrollably now.

“Nothing, that’s what. I have gone around the seven kingdoms and beyond, listing off my little list of names, taking revenge, chasing after dragons for insane plans of more revenge, but what good is that?” Tears were flowing freely now, the anger clearly coming from a place of guilt. “What good have I been? I have been gathering information on the Freys, on Cersei Lannister, on the Mountain, but not once-“ she was shouting now, gesticulating wildly, with Daenerys looking on silently, “not once did it even cross my mind to gather information about them, to find out ways to help them.”

She walked over to the edge of the cliffside again, looking down at the rocks deep below her.

“I have been selfish, and foolish, and utterly useless… And I don’t deserve to call them family anymore… I don’t deserve them…”

Arya looked defeated, her head cast downwards, but this time Daenerys couldn’t hold herself back anymore, full of pity for the girl, but also worried for her safety.

The older woman quickly moved over to the young Stark, and without giving the girl any time to react, she turned her around and pulled her into a hug.

The former assassin could feel the warmth radiating from the other woman’s body, and was suddenly hit by her smell, filling the air around her.

“You are wrong, Arya.” Daenerys whispered determinedly in the girl’s ear. “Your situation was different from theirs; you were a child, and you were alone, you have been alone for so many years, and you could not imagine it being any other way. You cannot blame yourself for not allowing yourself to believe they could be alive. You, just like them, did all you could do – you survived.”

The older woman had her arms wrapped around the younger, who was still stiff in her arms, and held her close, even as she felt her struggle against her grip – and her words.

“But if I had just-“

“No,” Daenerys reacted before Arya could fully interject. “You cannot change the past, Arya, … no one can. I know my fair share of remorse.” She pulled the girl even closer, glad to feel she stopped struggling. “If I had seen it sooner, I could have saved my husband. If I had not tried to save him, my son would not have died. If – if – if…” Her voice cracked with emotion. “We cannot change the past, dear girl, so it is no use to dwell on it. We must be strong, and focus on the present and the future. Those are the only actions we can still control.”

As she fell silent, once more the wind was all that could be heard around them. Daenerys focused more on the silent girl in her arms, relishing the feeling of having her so close to her, trying to send her warmth through her body, and hoping to relieve some of her pain.

After what felt like hours, but it must have been merely minutes, of holding onto the younger woman, refusing to let go, the girl finally moved.

She gently, as if she was unsure of the situation she was in right now, put her hands up, wrapping them around the Queen’s waist.

When, after a moment, Daenerys only hugged her harder, Arya responded in kind, and snuggled her head in the crook of the older woman’s neck.

Despite the cold night, the silver-haired woman suddenly felt very warm at the movement, her face flushed in response.

Before her mind could figure out why her body responded that way, she felt the younger woman move back.

The tearstains were still there, but the grey eyes were calmer now, and filled with a warmth she had not often seen in them before.

“Thank you, Daenerys.” Arya spoke, her voice still filled with emotion as she put her arms around the older woman once more, finding comfort there. “Thank you so much.”

---

 

“Have you seen Arya today, Missandei?”

The translator smiled at the question, one the Queen had asked her every afternoon for the past few days.

“I have, Khaleesi,” the darker woman spoke, smiling indulgently, “I saw her with Tyrion again this morning, and in the afternoon I believe she went outside to tend to your dragons.”

Daenerys walked towards the window, and looked out pensively, trying to catch a glimpse of the young wolf.

After their talk by the cliffside about a week ago, she had been able to guide the girl back inside, comforted, albeit apparently still deflated.

The next morning, though, it had been like a switch had flipped inside her brain; Arya had become a woman on a mission, or so it seemed, of which the most important part was gaining information.

She had spent the past few days hearing out all the advisors, even Jorah, about her siblings.

Where they had been, what they had done, what had been done to them, …

Daenerys had barely seen her during the day, due in part to her own busy schedule, but luckily Missandei had kept her updated.

And, even more luckily, despite her information-gaining activities, sometimes even skipping meals to pour over past letters from the Night’s Watch, or documentation about the Boltons’ ruling of Winterfell, she had never skipped the nightly meeting with the dragons.

On this day, however, true to Missandei’s words, Daenerys could see Rhaegal flying around the island and vaguely noticed the small form on his back.

Smiling, she quickly turned on her heel, told a clearly amused Missandei not to let her be disturbed for the rest of the day, and hurried outside.

The moment she stepped outside, the Queen immediately felt invigorated by the sun on her skin. It was a beautiful day, and she realised it had been a few days since she had actually seen the sun – usually only going outside after dark.

When she reached the dragons’ feeding grounds, where she usually met Arya, she was quickly joined by Drogon and Viserion.

By the time she had given some attention to the two, her third dragon landed right behind her.

When she turned around, she could see Arya getting off Rhaegal, a dazzling smile on her face, which made Daenerys’ heart skip a beat and her own smile follow suit.

“Looks like you had a good ride, Arya. Done studying every letter of the past 5 years and pestering my advisors?”

If her heart skipped a beat before, it now began to beat harder as the younger woman stepped closer to her. Most likely due to the heat of the day she was slightly sweaty, wearing a short-sleeved shirt that clung to her form, her hair windswept from the flight, and the large grin turned only more wolfish as she heard her words.

“Barely, Daenerys, I think I probably still have a good couple of days of pestering left. But your dwarf seemed more fed up than usual today, apparently I’m ‘delusional’,” she underlined the words with a few handmotions and an eyeroll, “if I expect an answer from Winterfell after ‘only’,” another eyeroll, “six days, but I disagree.”

The silver-haired woman chuckled, shaking her head. “He did mention that you already expected an answer to our request the day after we had sent the raven, but-“ she quickly continued, when she saw the other girl wanted to react, “I do hope they will answer soon. Though I believe it is like we said, Arya, if you had just let us mention you in the letter, instead of simply proposing an alliance-“

This time, Arya did interject.

“They wouldn’t believe you, Daenerys, they would have believed you tried to play them, and they wouldn’t look favourably upon an alliance. And on top of that, I…”

She stopped for a moment, the joy faded from her face as she looked away pensively.

Daenerys gave a soft smile and placed her hand on the girl’s – muscular and bare but now isn’t the time to notice that – arm, caressing her softly.

“You don’t feel you can face them, yet?” the Queen added, looking at her with compassion.

The former assassin turned back to her and nodded.

“Yeah…” They locked eyes for a moment, lost in the moment of a warm hand feeling warm skin, before Arya shook her head and walked away, towards Rhaegal.

“So anyways, Tyrion had had it, Mormont and Varys have not much more to add, and I saw the sun was out so I figured – time to fly.”

Her large grin was back as she turned back to Daenerys, who couldn’t help but join her.

“Well, when you put it that way, I can hardly disagree,” the older woman said, stepping closer once more as a thought came to her.

She sauntered closer to Arya, her eyes glinting as she did so, until she was standing so close they were almost touching.

“You know, Arya,” she said teasingly, lightly stroking the girl’s bare arms with her fingers, “this kind of weather is perfect for one thing.”

When she saw the younger woman blush in reaction, Daenerys stepped away from her. She dropped her cloak as she looked behind her, happy to see Arya was standing there completely dumbstruck.

“It’s perfect,” the older woman said, a sultry grin on her face as she walked on, caressing Drogon’s head as she did so, “for a race!”

And before Arya knew it, the sultry grin on the Queen’s face was replaced by a shit-eating one, as she quickly jumped on Drogon’s back and took to the sky.

The former faceless assassin needed just a moment for her brain to register what was happening, but when she did she grinned as well, jumping onto Rhaegal’s back.

“Oh, you’re on, Daenerys!” she laughed as she urged the animal on, following the silver-haired woman with adrenaline coursing through her veins – caused both by the prospect of racing and by the woman she was currently chasing.