The harbour was as alive as always the next morning and Arya had to shove through crowds to find the Alysanne. That was good. She preferred to be unnoticed and often had no trouble at that.
Alysanne was a big, fat trading galley with fifty oars. Arya knew one false move would ruin her. So close to the finish line was where you had to be most careful, where the target most likely knows they're being watched and is looking for any hint to confirm that.
Arya went to a merchant's table. He was selling wine. The merchant had big, beady eyes, a sunken face, and thin gray hair atop his hair. At his waist, he carried a poorly made blade that needed a whetstone. Although this sword was wrong, this face was absolutely right.
Arya glazed over the wines before setting her attention on the man. "Have you anything from Dorne? Dornish wines are my favorite."
The man only nodded and presented a bottle to her. "Might I try a sip?" she asked.
The man nodded again and poured a small glass. Arya swished the sour wine in her mouth for a moment, planning her next move. She nodded her head. "Good. Yes, very good. How much?"
He held up four fingers and a silver coin. "Four silvers?"
He nodded.
As Arya was taking four silvers from her purse, she said casually, "You ought to get a proper sword if you intend to protect your goods... or yourself."
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Her Blacksmith, His Princess
FanfictionAfter the fall of the Lannister reign in King's Landing, Westeros was returned to its original state of seven seperate kingdoms. A new sense of hope and pride is in the air. It's been five years since Arya and Gendry have seen each other and three...
