The Dragon & The Wolf (Daenarya)

chapter 19

Governing in peace time, if she could call it that, wasn't any easier than preparing for the war with mythical creatures. Destroying she learned required less effort than rebuilding, demanding quicker than seeking consensus. A large majority of her time was spent in the company of men and women who couldn't agree on the color of the sky.

She wanted to be with Arya, to help her, being a Queen kept them apart. Daenerys didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Perhaps what Arya needed was space to come to terms with everything that had happened. For a woman of action, the way Arya undoubtedly was, it had to be difficult to learn wars were fought while she stayed behind, that people she loved died so she could live and worst of all, that there was nothing she could do to change any of it.

With Daenerys was busy, Arya divided her time between the Weirwood Tree and the crypt. When she was available, sometimes Daenerys accompanied her, sometimes not. Arya rarely said anything, regardless, keeping her thoughts to herself, even as Daenerys prodded impatiently for her to speak. However they spent their days, when night came Arya always managed to find her way to Daenerys's chambers. They'd enjoy hours together, in blissful peace before the sun rose and the chaos began anew. It was a ritual that Daenerys was thrilled to be a part of.

R-C

She wasn't a good person. She knew that. She lied and killed as naturally as most sucked in air. After countless strikes from Jaqen, the Waif, the Kindly Man and others she'd gotten so good she could almost lie to herself. Almost. There was one truth that couldn't be denied. She missed Bran.

She remembered thinking once that they were in a war, and in war people died. There was no avoiding that. She was prepared for it, or thought she was. She didn't fear death, she even acknowledged the possibility that someone she loved might die before she could reach them, but she never considered losing him. Her all-seeing brother was safe, away from the fighting in Winterfell, protected by guards and knights. He wasn't in danger, nor a threat, he couldn't even stand. Short of a situation where the Night King claimed the whole of the Seven Kingdoms, she thought he'd be okay. If they all fell, he would too, but as long as they won, no matter who else was lost, Bran would be there to help in the aftermath. She believed that, and she'd been wrong.

When those around her dared to speak of him, they made blanket claims without merit, saying things like, "It'll get easier," or "Bran's in a better place." As selfish as it was, she didn't care where Bran was or how great his destination, she wanted him with her. She also questioned the sanity of those who told her things would get better. Her brother was dead, he gave his life for her. That, would never be easy, it would always just be. In fact, if she had to put a name to it, she'd say her feelings on the subject were growing worse.

Jon was smart enough to give her some time. He was the one who made the final decision, he swung the sword and he killed Bran. She knew she shouldn't blame him, but she did. He could have said no. He could have killed her instead. He didn't.

She tried harder with Sansa. Her sister was visibly hurting, and Arya didn't want to add to it. Their pain brought them together, even as they both actively avoided talking about Bran. In the earliest days after the war, each morning when she first encountered Sansa the older Stark seemed genuinely surprised Arya was there. As if she expected her to disappear during the night, in secret. It was a fair assumption, one she more than deserved. After that, she made an effort, finding her on the way to or from the crypt, just to confirm she was still present. She didn't know if this brought Sansa any comfort, but she hoped so.

Daenerys was at a loss. It was obvious she wanted to help. It showed in every expression, every word or deed, but she didn't know how. It wasn't her fault. The Wolf didn't know what she needed either. Arya tried to assure her lover she was fine but failed at that as incredibly as she failed at most things. More than once she thought about telling Daenerys what she'd seen, what she'd lived while she was unconscious. She recalled vividly her encounters with her dead family including Bran. When she was kneeling in front of his monument in the crypt, begging for forgiveness, his words echoed in her head.