I Am Not a Woman, I'm a God - Jonerys [18+]

No, I've never been, I've never been free

A/N: Arya and Daenerys bond. Jon helps Daenerys address the people of Kings Landing, and Daenerys laments all that she has to deal with when they leave.

A lot of talking and inner thoughts. She has a lot on her mind and her faith is waning.

"Lay my head, under the water
Lay my head, under the sea
Excuse me sir
Am I your daughter?
Won't you take me back
Take me back and see?

There's not a time, for being younger
And all my friends, are enemies
And if I cried unto my mother
No, she wasn't there
She wasn't there for me

Don't let the water drag you down
Don't let me drown in the waves
I could be found, I could be what you had saved

Lay my head under the water
Aloud, I pray for calmer seas"

Under the Water – The Pretty Reckless
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Daenerys 

When Daenerys had accepted Arya's offer to teach her how to defend herself, she hadn't expected that the young Stark would take it so seriously. Her bedchamber was in complete disarray. Half filled coffers scattered around, lids open as her earthly belongings spilled over the edges. She could hardly stand the sight of it so soon after leaving Dragonstone. She'd gotten used to living in one place, settled and sure of where she was. It took her back to her days as a Khaleesi, and the knowledge they might not return from the North was a slow-moving poison in her blood.

Arya had noticed her lustreless demeanor and had decided it was time for Daenerys to make a fool of herself. So, she found herself in the dark basement of the Red Keep, surrounded by ancient dragon skulls, desperately trying to keep hold of the practice sword Arya had shoved into her hands. Sweat made her hold slippery and clumsy. Her arms ached and complained each time Arya called, "again!". Still, Daenerys wouldn't give up, no matter if she dearly wished to use her status as Queen to end this torture session. Her upper arms would have deep violet bruises after the many hits Arya had landed when she'd failed to block her in time.

Her breath sawed in and out of her chest, harsh and loud. Sweat slid down her temple as Arya showed her again how to stand. Arya was as composed as ever, not a hair out of place despite the fact they'd been at this for a while, and she hadn't taken it easy. She was a patient teacher, severe and unforgiving, but Daenerys admired her more with every passing moment. They'd both forbade Jon from attending these lessons. Daenerys did not want to make a fool of herself in front her husband and his sister. Arya simply knew he'd be too much of a distraction. Her cheeks still heated each time she failed to do what the young wolf taught her. It was difficult to remember that she had never held a sword and, therefore, couldn't expect herself to master it in a single lesson.