DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 1 - GAME OF THRONES

Arya IV

Dolphins leaped aside as white foam formed at the foot of the bow, following the ship in its wake. The icy-cold wind blew in her face, reddening her the tip of her nose. Once upon a time, Arya stood at the bow of a similar ship, watching the land of Westeros disappear behind her. On her horizon was Braavos and an exciting new life. There she'd stood, wind whipping through her hair, the salty sea air filling her lungs, her head filled of dreams of water dancing. Arya had been young and naïve, with notions fanciful as Sansa's romantic tales of gallant knights and princes, rescuing fair maidens. She didn't regret her choice to train to become Faceless Man, and wouldn't change her previous path, rendered unnecessary in this life.

The last time Arya stood on the ship sailing to Braavos, she thought she was flying. Arya chuckled at the memory. With age, she'd learned, standing on the bow of a ship was incomparable to flying, opposed to sitting atop a dragon, a thousand feet up. With autumn winds blowing icy-cold, flying on the bow of a ship, or on dragonback, sounded appealing.

By the time Arya reached White Harbor, a raven arrived from Sansa, asking for Jory to return to Queenscrown. Robb was to embark on a Lord's Progress around the north, and Jory was needed as her personal guard. Arya was glad she would be left alone with Theon. She'd dreaded taking Jory to Kings Landing. He'd interfere with her plans.

Jory remained in White Harbor, while they negotiated building a northern navy with Lord Manderly. Although the fat lord wasn't happy with Theon's role, he agreed to help. Lord Manderly would gather shipbuilders and purchase wood from White Harbor and surrounding areas, while Arya and Theon would organise delivery of other ship-building materials from Kings Landing; taking care not to raise suspicions. A sennight later, their deals were done, and they sailed for Kings Landing.

The trip from Eastwatch to White Harbor had been bitterly cold. Autumn winds had come and the snow and ice came with it. The voyage from White Harbor to Kings Landing was entirely different. The weather was a good deal warmer, the days longer, and seas calmer. Instead of being cooped up inside her cabin, Arya could stand on the bow of the ship, facing the wind.

"Are you flying?" Theon asked.

Arya turned to face him. "No, I'm waiting for a storm."

"You'll be waiting for some time. Captain says the weather should be fair all the way."

"I'm not talking about that type of storm." She said, turning to Theon. "We don't know what is happening in the south. "How can we gather people to our cause if we are deaf and blind to our enemies? We need spies."

"Arya, you are only ten and three. How many enemies do you have?"

"Oh, shut up! I'm going inside. I need ale." Arya made towards her cabin.

"Your mother says only one horn." Theon said.

"Fuck my mother! I'll drink as much as I want."

The bickering continued past The Fingers, and into Blackwater Bay. They disembarked the ship and made their way through the mud gate, past the stench of Fishmongers Square, and up toward Visenya's Hill, close to the shop of Tobho Mott, where Gendry worked. They found room and board at The Steel Inn, just off the Street of Steel, where Arya and Theon pretended to share a room as siblings, while Theon was spending his nights in Littlefinger's brothels.

By the time they'd settled in, evening had fallen over King's Landing. Theon and Arya left their chambers for the common room, for food, ale, and the latest gossip. Most of the customers were men, blackened from working in the nearby forges. The smell of sweat, smoke, and leather filled the air. Theon wrinkled his nose in disgust, while Arya basked in it, recalling cherished memories of her final night with Gendry. The large room was dimly lit with wall sconces and candles on the well-worn wooden tables. In one corner was a doorway to the kitchens, where servers scurried in and out, fetching food and ale for their customers.