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Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories:
F/MMulti
Fandoms:
Game of Thrones (TV)House of the Dragon (TV)A Song of Ice and Fire & Related FandomsA Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Relationships:
Arya Stark & Daemon TargaryenArya Stark/ ?Arya Stark/Daemon TargaryenArya Stark/Aemond "One-Eye" TargaryenAegon II Targaryen/Arya StarkArya Stark & Laena VelaryonDaemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra TargaryenAemond "One-Eye" Targaryen & Arya StarkAegon II Targaryen & Arya Stark
Characters:
Arya StarkDrogon | Daenerys Targaryen's DragonDaemon TargaryenAemond "One-Eye" TargaryenAegon II TargaryenLaena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys)Baela TargaryenRhaena Targaryen (Daughter of Daemon)Rhaenys Targaryen VelaryonRhaenyra Targaryen
Additional Tags:
Arya Stark-centricTime TravelAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceBAMF Arya StarkCanon-Typical ViolenceWarg Arya StarkTime Travel Fix-ItFamily DynamicsDragon Rider Arya StarkAegon II Targaryen is Not a RapistThreesome - F/M/MDigital Art
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2024-09-01Updated:2026-06-17Words:520,544Chapters:90/?Comments:1,601Kudos:2,362Bookmarks:446Hits:94,300
A Song Told Through Time
wicked17writer
Chapter 3: Daemon, part 2
Summary:
Daemon POV
Notes:
I am trying some embedded links for visual aids this chapter, so enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 3
~Daemon, part 2~
Arya went missing for two days following her children's performance, he found out quickly this was the norm for the girl and her dragon. Apparently, she only let the dragon go hunting if he performed obediently during her little shows, or so the gossip said. Personally, he was inclined to agree, as the motivation of food was the most effective way to train any animal. Dragons included.
The show he witnessed was said to have been spontaneous and oddly free, only so, he supposed because it was so geared towards children who were notoriously empty pocketed. Though she did not charge a fee, her endorsement of the House of Black and White left the whole situation feeling unseemly. He speculated endlessly about how deep her ties to those death worshipers really were and why she would send needy children to their doors when the Faceless Men were known for their high fees and unmatched competence.
Beyond the unsavory implications between girl and guild of assassins, the show itself felt like an insult to his very heritage, no matter the intentions behind it. It was clear the girl was a bleeding heart and he wondered how her motivations, whatever well intentioned drivel they were, had been twisted to serve the Many-Faced God. In this respect he suspected her of naive stupidity more than malintent machinations.
It was in these two days he learned much about the girl and her dragon. He learned she'd been in Braavos for little more than three months and that when she first arrived, she went straight to the House of Black and White. Which was very interesting given no one had seen or heard of her or the dragon before this appearance.
He learned that while she enjoyed watching mummer's plays, she'd only very recently joined a troupe and started preforming with them, the private children's shows aside, she was by all accounts a novice. But it was said, a very fast learner. People talked about her like she was a living legend even though she'd only preformed with the troupe 'when she felt like it' and thus had only a handful of show experience under her belt.
When he inquired about what kind of show Arya and Drogon had joined, he'd been informed it was not a play but an 'experience'. The people he'd spoken to described her joining the mummer's troupe like it was an artistic revelation and to his great frustration no on who had seen her preform would give him any more information. He found it all very pretentious and annoying.
It was by pure chance he ran into the girl on his 5th day in Braavos. That afternoon he'd found himself by the northern end of Ragman's Harbor a few blocks east of the edge of the Drowned Town. After a morning of speaking to the poor, looking for more scraps of information about the mysterious Arya, he'd grown hungry.
He had an internal debate about walking back to the nicer part of the city or taking a chance on one on the seedier taverns. It was his experience that just because a place looked like shit on the outside didn't mean it had shit food, so he was willing to gamble a bit.
"Meow." A small black cat scurried over to him, jumping on his boots and meowing loudly for attention. It looked surprisingly clean and so in a moment of weakness he scooped the kitten up and gave it a good scratch behind the ears before stroking its soft fur.
"Hello, little one." He said softly to the animal. It was quite adorable and of an unusual gentle temperament. "Looking for an easy mark to give you some scraps, hmm?"
"Oi," A shaky man's voice called out to him, "That's one'a of Pynto's."
Looking up Daemon found an old Begger man gesturing to the kitten in his arms. "Over d'are." The man pointed with a shaking finger to the tavern behind him. "Old pirate loves dem kitties."
"Rats wit fur, I say." The man grumped; Daemon decided not to point out that rats also had fur. Instead, he threw the man a coin and walked inside the tavern.
There were many cats roaming about at their leisure, so he gently let the kitten down and made his way to the bar. The room smelled of sour wine and stinky cheese but it looked cleaner than expected. He assumed the cats kept the place somewhat vermin free.
He put some money on the bar stating, "Wine and your best meal, whatever that may be."
The bartender gave a jolly laugh before scooping up the coin, "Find a table and I'll getcha ya somethin' worth eating."
Daemon took a moment to survey the room, it was mostly empty save a drunk sleeping in a quiet corner not far from the dying fire. He'd just decided to sit in the middle of the room when Arya and a man walked in.
Her eyes found his right away and he almost smiled at his good fortune. After days of chasing after her, she had found him. It felt like fate… but at the same time too much like fate? It felt oddly orchestrated in his favor, that he would just run into her at a random. Especially since he'd gotten the impression from various parties that the girl and her dragon rarely parted from each other. However, since this worked in his favor, he decided not to dwell on the oddness.
He straightened up a bit as she looked him up and down judgingly, he tried not to appear threatening. He watched as her eyes moved to the corner where the now snoring drunk was, before returning to him. He smirked. A somewhat public, somewhat secluded venue was the perfect place to approach her and finally get some concrete information.
His eyes shifted to her companion as the man leaned over and said something softly to her. The man was older than them both, perhaps of age with his brother. Her companion had striking two-toned hair and a stoic expression. He also had that swarthy look so many Braavosi did, handsome in a rakish way, he would admit. Daemon didn't immediately dislike him, as that would be childish, but he was irritated for his presence. Was he related to her? Was he one of her troupe of mummers? Or was he, more insidiously a Faceless Man sent to escort the girl wherever she was to go when without her dragon so she would do their bidding? The possibilities were endless and annoying.
The bartender came in then, passing Daemon his food in a hurried way as he pushed past him to greet the pair jovially. He watched as the girl and her unknown man were ushered to a nice clean table near the window.
He sat, not disguising his staring, trying to work out the relationship between the two. There was a familiarity, but to what end he could not decipher. The bartender engaged the pair in easy banter, the girl doing most of the talking, before disappearing and quickly reappearing with food. Given how chatty the man was he was surprised when he left the couple to eat in peace.
It was the best opportunity he was probably going to get.
Abandoning his bowl of soup which smelled faintly of eel, he grabbed his drink and made his way over to their table. "Hello," He greeted with his most courteous grin, "Might I join you?"
The girl opened her mouth, there was a hard look in her eyes, thinking quickly he threw his entire pouch of gold on the table. "I will of course pay for your meal."
"All my meals are complimentary here." She responded coolly, her eyes glancing at the man at her side who remained silent. The girl then lifted her own bowl of steaming soup to her lips and slurped noisily.
Undeterred he grabbed an empty chair from the table behind them and joined the table. "A gift then," he gestured to the gold, "For your time."
"Do you think me a whore?" She asked with a quirk of her full eyebrow. Thankfully there was more amusement in her voice than insult.
"I think you are an anomaly; one I would like to speak to." He leaned forward, "And as they say, time is money. Ergo, my offer."
"Ergo." She repeated mockingly with a snort, ignoring him to slurp down more of the steaming slop. Her prickly demeanor was not ideal. He found himself having to try more than expected and that was irksome.
"You are quite famous here in Braavos," He flattered, "Are you not used to inquiries from the curious masses?" He gave her a flirtatious smile, "Surely, I am not the first to try to get an impromptu private audience with you?"
"A girl has time to spare." Her companion said speaking for the first time, he looked at her with a blank face but laughing eyes as he gestured to Daemon, "And it appears a man has gold to spare. Perhaps it is providence?"
"Perhaps you are just greedy." She muttered. She waffled for a moment, her eyes darting between both men. When she came to a decision, she grabbed up the pouch of gold and took three coins from it before handing the rest of it off to her companion. "Fine," She made a shooing motion, "Fuck off Jaqen."
Daemon wanted to object that the gold was for her, but he held his tongue as he was about to get exactly what he wanted. The man took his gold and gave them both a nod of the head before departing without another word.
"Strange man." He remarked dryly.
She didn't respond, instead choosing to fold her hands and rest her chin atop them. He waited for her to speak, but she didn't. It was proof of a childish obstinance that reminded him of a young Rhaenyra. There was a long awkward silence before he broke down and said, "I saw your show the other day, you are a remarkable girl."
"No, you didn't." She responded quickly.
Her answer confused him, "Excuse me?"
"You haven't seen my show." She elaborated, but not enough to clarify.
"Yes, I have, with the children." He couldn't help it; he felt his lip curl in disgust as he was reminded of the drivel, she had forced her dragon to peddle. "Counting feet and whatnot."
"That wasn't a show, that was…more of a favor." She picked up her bowl again and finished it off before lifting a cup to her lips.
"A favor to whom?" He inquired, as she drank deep from her cup.
She didn't answer his question, instead she bluntly asked one of her own, "Old man, what do you want from me?"
He clenched his teeth at her descriptor and spat out, "Answers."
She breathed out heavily from her nose and turned her head, probably to try to hide the smile tugging at her lips, "Don't we all."
"Who are you." He asked, now using the direct approach, continuing to stroke her ego or charm her just wasn't possible with how taciturn and combative her attitude was. "How do you find your dragon?"
"Why should I tell you?" She challenged with a mischievous grin.
"I paid you for a conversation." He reminded her.
Cheekily she said, "You paid for a conversation, but honesty costs extra."
"Why consent to speak with me at all then?"
She laughed at him, "You were the one who approached me throwing gold around like it didn't matter. Why not toy with you for your arrogance? I hear some men like that."
He ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he would regret. Taking a moment to gather himself he looked her over. She was well groomed and clean. It made him think, "Are you a whore? Was that man your pimp? Have I unintentionally insulted you somehow?"
Her whole body stiffened and her face went blank, except for her eyes, those blazed with anger. "I don't think I feel like talking to you anymore."
Before he could say another word, she was up and heading for the door. He made haste to follow but she was deceptively quick, he only managed to catch up to her once they were outside the tavern.
"Wait," He grabbed her arm. And was immediately punched in the face. "Argh!"
She was unexpectedly strong. It was almost admirable; however, blood was gushing from his face so he found it hard to respect her fighting spirit.
"Fuck off." She said over her shoulder as she ran down the street.
"No!" He shouted indignantly as he chased her.
Once they made it to the waterfront he had to slow down because Drogon was waiting for her on the bank of the canal. The large dragon was entirely blocking the road to the inconvenience of several people caught on either side.
In sight of her dragon Arya stopped running and turned around walking backwards at a slow pace. "If you bother me again, I'll have him eat you."
He did not doubt her capacity for violence, anymore, his throbbing face was proof there was more to her than insipid children's entertainment and soft-hearted charity. However, from everything he'd heard about her, he just knew the girl would not kill him over a few insulting words. He called out to her calmly, "I just want to know where you found him."
He kept following her, but left enough distance between them that she would feel safe. Not that she seemed especially worried about him to begin with.
"I didn't find him," She answered, and her words had the ring of truth to them, "He found me." She finally backed up into her dragon and stopped moving. "We found each other."
"Where?" He asked, it was the one thing he wanted to know most of all. Where else in the world were there dragons?
Drogon let out a trilling cry. Staring at Daemon the dragon then turned to Arya and made several guttural clicking noises. He watched as the girls' eyebrows rose in surprise; she looked over at him with an expression of distain. "Him?"
Drogon repeated the clicking noises but slightly higher pitched. Daemon was fascinated, it appeared as if they pair were having a conversation the likes of which he could only dream was possible between himself and Caraxes.
"What?" He prompted as he slowly kept moving forward. Arya glared at him but there was annoyance in her eyes not fire. He grinned and took another step closer. He hoped the more they talked the less hostile the girl would get; the dragon's mere presence was already deescalating the tension between them. Drogon let out a strong trilling cry, his tail moving to create a barrier between the two of them.
"He's protective of you." He said observationally. The girl hopped over the dragon's tail and strut towards him.
"Actually, he's trying to protect you from me." He stood still and let the girl make her approach, curious as to what her next move would be and hopeful it wouldn't involve striking him again. One hit he could forgive; another would require him to reciprocate. She stopped only when they were nose to nose, or given the height difference, nose to sternum.
His voice full of impetuous amusement, his lips curved into a smirk, he asked, "Yes?"
Her eyes darted down to his waist where his hand was lightly resting on Dark Sister's hilt, when she looked back at his face, he just knew she was searching for something in his expression. He hoped she found it; this girl more grew more interesting with every second he spent in her company.
He stared back at her and in so doing he noticed how grey her eyes were. A beautiful kind of stormy grey.
"Drogon wants you." She told him quietly. His eyes drifted over her head to peer at the dragon in question.
"For?"
She took a step back, her gaze taking in the people on the street who were watching their confrontation like it was the highest form of entertainment. And given the pathetic show Arya put on the other day, perhaps it was.
She clasped her hands behind her back and looked him in the eye, "If I show you a bit of trust, will you return it?"
It was an honest question. Perhaps the most honest thing he'd heard her say thus far.
With a nod of his head he promised, "Girl. I assure you; my intentions are pure."
Silently he willed her to believe him. Her eyes cast about the gawking gossips again, then she nodded. Turning away from him she grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her. "Come."
He followed her to the dragon obediently. When Drogon lowered himself so that the girl could climb aboard he almost hesitated, but because the girl still had hold of his hand and was silently urging him to follow, he did. The intrusive thoughts about risk and danger and never having ridden a dragon without a saddle flooded his mind but the doubts only slowed his movements. Gently, he did as the girl bid and climbed on the dragon's back behind her.
Without another word Drogon took to the sky, he'd been expecting the girl to give the dragon a command so he regretfully let out an unmanly yelp. Frantically he wrapped his arms around the girl's waist tight. Her mocking laughter pricked at his pride but not enough to loosen his grip.
She grinned at him over her shoulder, "Don't tell me that infamous Rogue Prince is afraid I'll drop him?"
It surprised him that she knew who he was. His eyes narrowed, "And here I thought I'd hidden my identity so well."
Instead of laughing in his face she gracefully chuckled, patting his hand on her stomach consolingly, "I'm sure it was a valiant effort."
He did not like how easily she had the upper hand in this conversation, but he was grateful that she now seemed truly at ease speaking to him. He probably had to thank Drogon for that.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure it was arriving on Caraxes that gave you away." She huffed a laugh, "Despite your best effort to hide him, he is fairly noticeable."
"I suppose." He groused. It irked him that he'd put too much faith in the mask he wore since entering the city to disguise his identity. Apparently, he'd been dammed from the start. Tugging at the ties at the back of his head he let the mask slip from his face and fall to the world below.
With a smile she continued, "It wasn't hard to put together once the dragon was spotted and a fair skinned man with Targaryen features appeared shortly after to buy a mask. Especially when that man piqued my interest by following me from afar and asking after me at every turn."
He snorted at that, because when she put it that way—
"It also didn't help that you have very high-end tastes when it comes to lodging. The swagger of someone who doesn't hear the word 'no' often enough. And, most obviously, are wearing one of the most famous Valyrian steel swords on your hip."
A laugh, a true laugh born of his own arrogance and stupidity left his lips. The girl looked back at him approvingly before turning her gaze back to the sky laid out like a clear blue blanket before them.
Half muttering to himself he said, "Well, I suppose no one's perfect."
.
.
.
There landing was a smooth one. He was unsurprised by how far outside the city she had taken him and smiled warmly when his own dragon came into view. After he dismounted from Drogon he went to Caraxes.
His dragon's shrieking greeting cry was most welcome after the stress of dealing with riding without a saddle on an unknown dragon and having to entrust his life to an unknown volatile girl. Also, getting punched in the face, that was also stressful.
"Gīda, Caraxes." He commanded as he nuzzled his face into Caraxes. Petting him soothingly his dragon was reassured of his wellbeing and began to settle.
Once his over excited dragon was tended to, he turned back to the girl. She was sitting on the ground in front of Drogon, leaning back but maintaining a stiff pose. The fierce looking dragon was once again curling its body around her protectively, or perhaps it was to ward off the chill that drifted over from the nearby ocean.
"I believe I owe you a conversation." The girl said invitingly. He approached more confidently, Caraxes at his back always made him feel invincible.
He settled down on a boulder in front of the girl. "An honest one this time?"
She nodded, her eyes looking back at Drogon searchingly, and--for a brief second her eyes went white. It was quick, but he was certain of what he'd seen. Her eyes had changed. A little unsettled he rested his hand on Dark Sister's hilt.
She turned back with a strained expression asking, "What do you want to know?"
"Who are you?"
"Arya."
"Arya, who?" She gave a shrug and looked content to not elaborate until Drogon trilled, the warbling sound making the girl flinch. Her shoulders rose up around her ears until the noise stopped. She rolled her eyes at the dragon then.
"Okay, okay, I get it." When her attention shifted back to him it was like a barrier had been removed. Her posture relaxed and she let her head bang back against the dragon. "Something happened to me, either one too many blows to the head or a curse of some kind because my memories are—they were gone." She hesitated, looking uncertain, "Six moons ago I woke up with Drogon by my side--"
Drogon interrupted, called out trilling again. Looking irritated she turned a fierce glare to her dragon. "We don't even know him!" Drogon merely repeated the sound. She shouted at him, "I am being honest!"
In response Drogon flapped his tail in her face causing a great gust to hit her. Daemon laughed outright. Quick as a snake Arya's angry eyes were back on him, "Shut it!"
Drogon used his long neck to bend down and align himself face to face with the girl. They stared at each other for a long moment before the dragon blinked at her slowly. Her eyes darted back to him, "Trust is earned."
Daemon didn't know if she was talking to Drogon or to him, so he chose to advocate for himself, "I agree, trust is earned especially when actions meet words. You asked me for trust back in the city, and I followed you onto a dragon. Have I not taken the first step?"
Drogon gently butted his head into her stomach before returning to his earlier pose. Arya looked at her hands silently for almost a minute. Her tendency to go quiet was driving him insane, he was about to speak to break the tension when she looked up. He dared not breathe for the vulnerability he saw in her grey eyes. "I think we died."
She paused, looking back at her dragon, but Drogon was no longer paying attention. Daemon took a risk, moving off from his boulder he got closer to the girl and her dragon. He sat on the ground before her and crossed his leg underneath himself like a child eager to hear a story from a kindly elder.
The girl looked at him only briefly before averting her eyes. She began to speak once again, her voice soft but with steel behind her far-off gaze. "I woke up in a grave covered in earth, Drogon too. We had to dig our way out."
"Where?"
"A small island north of Ibben." That made Daemon pause, he'd heard nothing of reports of a girl and a dragon from that area. However, he knew the nation of Ibben consisted of several islands, not all of them heavily populated. And considering Ibben was in the polar sea north of Essos, he could see how the girl would seem to have appeared out of nowhere if that was her true place of origin.
"You said six moons ago your memories were gone. Have they returned?"
"Pieces." She hunched in on herself.
"Your name?" He prompted quietly. She looked up.
"That I remembered from the start," She gestured to Drogon, "His too."
It was a mad story to be sure, but not impossible. Especially not given the way the girl and dragon communicated. He next asked, "What are you doing in Braavos?"
"I was flying overhead three moons ago and saw something familiar. The first familiar sight since we woke up."
"The House of Black and White." He speculated. She nodded.
"I remembered standing at the door. It was my first clue to uncovering my past, so I talked my way inside." Daemon scoffed, talked her way inside? He looked over at Drogon, more like threatened to burn all to ash. Ignoring him, Arya continued her story, "I wasn't recognized by anyone in the temple. But, I found a familiar face, only…he wasn't--him."
"Him who?"
"I don't know. He was no one. They wear his face and speak in his accent to please me, but it's a fallacy, it's not him." She looked off towards the ocean. "Some parts of Braavos are the same. Familiar but not right, not the same. Not a match for the flashes of memory I keep having."
"So, your memory is returning?" He questioned, trying hard to make his voice more conversational and less interrogation. He was happy she was being so forthright now, but he was wary of how long it would last.
"I think I lived here, not, this wasn't where I was born, I don't think but I lived here for some time. A significant amount of time…I remember the canals well enough. I remember begging, the humility of it all. And the darkness, I think I was blind? I remember training to fight. Then being hurt," Her hand moved defensively to cover her stomach.
He'd thought her young like the reports he'd received, but now seeing her up close, talking to her, he wondered if she was older than the 3 and 10 her height and slight frame suggested. And with her trailing off to hold her womb protectively he wondered if something truly horrific had befallen her before she found Drogon and came under his protection.
"But that's the past." She said dismissively, her eyes met his once again. No longer haunted by a forgotten past but now filled with fire. She questioned him sharply, trying to take control of the conversation yet again, "Why did you come and find me? Was it pure curiosity? Or do you want something from me?"
There was sadness in one so young and vulnerable being so suspicious of simple inquiry. Sadness and intelligence. "I was just curious."
The side of her lips dipped up, "And now that I've satisfied you?"
He barked a laugh, "Is that what you think satisfies a man? A single conversation?"
Her mouth grew pinched, he could tell she didn't like the sexual inuendo. He suppressed the urge to grin, he so loved getting under people's skin, no matter how unhelpful it actually was to his cause.
With a blank expression she all but hissed, "The last time I was here I think I was training to be a Faceless Man; do you really think it is wise to tease me so?"
He leaned back, "Are you one?"
He didn't think she'd answer honestly if she was, but still he asked all the same. The corner of her lips lifted into a smirk, but only briefly. "No. I don't like being told what to do or who to kill."
That felt true.
She didn't look imposing without the dragon at her back, but for whatever reason, his aching nose maybe, he believed her. He believed that this girl was more than she appeared. He could see it in her eyes, the way she held her body, this girl was a warrior capable of great violence.
"Like recognizes like." He said softly. There was a moment of silence where they just looked at each other. During which he wondered what she saw in him. What she thought of him so far. What she had already heard about him. "You said your memory began six moons past, but you only reached Braavos three moons ago. What did you do in between? Where were you?"
She heaved a weary sigh, "I'm tired of talking about the past. I've committed myself to the present. To experiencing as much happiness as I can, while I can." She smiled at him, wanly, but honestly. "How about a race instead?"
There was not a moments hesitation on his part as he matched her energy, "What does the winner get?"
She chuckled lightly, "What do you want?"
He wanted her to come back to Pentos with him so he could unravel the mystery of her existence at his pleasure. But he doubted she'd agree to that. Yet. "A heard you were having a 'proper' show tomorrow evening, how about a free ticket?"
She nodded eagerly, "And if I win?"
"A kiss from a handsome prince?" He would have been insulted by the screwed-up look of disgust on her face if it wasn't so hilarious. "No?"
"No." She confirmed.
"Gold?" She rolled her eyes.
"A foot massage?" She laughed, grabbing a handful of grass and throwing it at him playfully. His insides felt warm at the brief spark of joy on her face. Instinctively he knew this was a girl who had not experienced enough laughter in her former life.
"A proper dragon saddle." He said seriously, putting an end to their banter but not the feeling of good will they had built between them.
"Deal." She held out her hand and he shook it, amused by how dainty hers looked in comparison to his own.
"Deal." He repeated.
.
.
.
After they raced and he did a bit of gloating, he secretly vowed to get her a dragon saddle anyway. After all, if she was going to blame losing on her lack of one, it was only fair they race again once she was properly equipped.
.
.
.
And so on the 7th day of the Braavosi Unmasking Celebration, he had a ticket to the "Dragon Show" just like seemingly every other person in the city. With the crowd being so large and the star performer equally so, the event was being held outdoors on the beach just as the sun was about to set.
Vendors selling food walked amongst the crowd selling their wares, but those selling ale worked out of wagons set up at the entrance of the seating area and outskirts of the crowd. Those stations were obviously very busy and Daemon avoided it as he looked for the best seat.
There were only about 75 chairs set up, all facing the water, he'd been told these were seats sold old out weeks ago, and even then, they were said to be obscenely priced. The rest of the crowd would have to make due standing or sitting on the floor. To accommodate the crowd tickets had also been sold for rooftop seating and boat seating.
There was a very large floating platform in the water beyond the shore, to his estimation it was large enough to support even a dragon of Drogon's size and so that was probably where most of the 'action' would occur. Daemon decided, to get the best view possible, he would abandon his pride and join the children in the front.
For in front of the obscenely wealthy seating area, small children had taken over the small space left between audience and makeshift stage. The area for performers was separated with a ribbon and the children at least were respectful of the delineation flimsy though it was.
Weaving his way, stepping over children, he made his way to the middle of the middle. The perfect seat. He looked down at the pair of children occupying the space want and crouching down he adopted a kind manner, "I've never seen the show before, have you?"
A little dark-skinned boy and a girl of the same complexion with long riotous curls nodded eagerly, "Yes, we've seen it last week when they were 'workshopping' things." The boy answered.
"May I squeeze in and sit with you?" He looked down feigning shyness, "I'm traveling through Braavos and on my way home to my family. I don't know anyone in the city and I want to be able to tell my girls every detail when I make it home. And this looks like the best seat in the house."
"You have girls?" The girl asked, her words slightly muffled as she answered around the thumb she was sucking. At the same time the boy screwed up his face looking at the open sky above mumbling, "We're not in a house."
"Two of them." He answered the girl with an honest grin. "A bit older than you two, I think. Are you siblings?"
They nodded, and then the girl asked, "Won't you get in trouble a'fore sitting in the front."
The boy nodded agreeingly, "Yeah we usually get away with it a'cuz were little and don't block the fancy people's view."
It was an astute observation, he inclined his head, "This far in the front I won't block anyone's view I don't think."
"Well, if you're sure you won't cause troubles," The pair looked at each other and then the boy shrugged before tugging the girl closer to himself, "Sure you can sit next to me."
Silently he approved of the boy's protective instinct, placing himself between a stranger and his sister. He quickly unbuckled his belt so he could place Dark Sister in his lap, then copied the children's pose, crossing his legs to make himself as small as possible. The boy looked at his sword with big eyes, "Are you a knight?"
"More of a rogue." He answered with a smirk.
Any further questions stemming from the little boy were stalled as trumpets sounded. A signal that the show was about to start if the giddy chatter of the crowd was anything to go by.
"Here they come!" They little boy cheered, his skinny finger pointing to the sky above them.
Arya and her dragon flew back and forth over the audience a few times, swooping low enough to give everyone a thrill until the dragon settled, landing on the floating stage in the water before them. Drogon's mighty roar left Daemon's bones vibrating and many others seemed to feel the same because when the dragon stopped there was nothing but silence from the 500 plus crowd.
From behind them a lone lute began to play a slow tune. Scantily clad dancers entered from the sides, their hips gyrating provocatively making the coin belts they wore around their waists jingle. A flute player joined in and the tune picked up in tempo slightly. A pair of handsome identical muscular men walked into view juggling flaming sticks. A horn player heralded a trio of tiny tumbling acrobats, and again the tempo of the tune picked up in pace.
And while the dancers and the jugglers and the acrobats were all talented, they were not what people were here for. As this went on for a few minutes, almost comically, with Drogon and Arya just sitting in the background doing nothing, he was amazed no on in the crowd voiced their discontent.
And then the song ended and everything stopped. It was almost timed perfectly with the sun finally setting, blanketing the whole scene in darkness.
"Dracarys." Arya's voice rang out in the night, her only competition the sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore. One by one, Drogon spit fire in short controlled bursts, lighting floating torches half submerged in the water and some along the shore. The act was one of precision he had never seen from a dragon and it left him feeling blossoming respect for the girl.
He watched impressed as Arya climbed up her dragon's neck until she stood on top of Drogon's head facing the audience. "Welcome all!" She announced simply, "I hope you enjoy the show!" And then she dived off her dragon into the water.
He was slow to join others in their clapping, distracted by Drogon brining his head down to Arya as she surfaced from the shallow water. His eyebrows rose as she handed him a metal chain, placing it in between the dragon's powerful jaws.
As the dragon drew back to its full height the 'clink clink clink' of the metal chain moving filled the air ominously. As the chain rose in the air, he realized there was a hoop attached to the end, a hoop Arya was now sitting on.
Drogon took flight once she was completely free of the water. The dragon hovered in place for a few seconds, the chain that Arya now dangled from held riskily in his mouth. Then Drogon flew forward slightly, towards the audience, and also higher up a bit. This left no doubt that should Arya fall she would be gravely injured.
She shifted position on the giant hoop, leaning back precariously and letting go with one hand to wave and smile cheerily at the crowd before throwing herself forward through the hoop. The only thing that stopped her from pitching forward completely was her grabbing onto the hoop with both hands at the top and one pointed foot at the bottom. The daring and skill this took was astounding, and the visual she created as she held the treacherous pose was stunning. This time he was one of the first people to start clapping.
He watched with genuine excitement as the girl pulled herself back into a seated position before flipping her whole body upside down and curling in on herself inside the ring. He gasped when, entirely inverted, she elongated her body until her feet were at the top of the hoop and she seemingly held on by the power of her ass, which rested on the edge at the bottom of the hoop. With her head and then arms dangling free, she was one false move from plummeting head first into the ground and from that height it would be a death sentence.
Drogon began to fly backwards so Arya once again dangled over the water. At the same time Arya climbed back to a seated position in the hoop before slipping down so her arms were in the middle of the hoop holding all her weight. She kicked her out with her legs a few times before she got enough momentum to completely flip backwards through, the hoop with her whole body. She did this three times before backflipping into the water.
Thunderous applause erupted.
Drogon landed on the deck and watched closely as Arya climbed out of the water. She went to him, petting his head a bit before checking on the chain in his mouth, which Daemon could now see had been looped around one of the dragon's teeth. And then Drogon was off again, dragging the chain up until the hoop dangled just over the girl's head.
Reaching up she grabbed on with both hands, kicking out with her feet gracefully and making the loop spin. At a dizzying speed the girl spun like the most graceful dancer, the danger ever increasing as the dragon rose higher and higher in the air. With flare she kicked out keeping her knees bent and slowing the speed of her spins. Once she had stopped spinning, she started climbing up the chain towards the dragon's mouth. She shouted something but the crowd was too far to hear it, probably a command meant only for Drogon because within seconds the dragon was opening his mouth and the girl was practically climbing inside.
A few shouts of alarm rang out from the crowd and Daemon heedless of front row etiquette, jumped to his feet. The long metal chain and hoop fell from the air. The hoop landed in the water a little way away from the floating dock while the chain landed in a neat pile on the wood. He'd thought both chain and hoop to be made of heavy metal but he must have been wrong because the hoop floated on the surface of the water while the chain on the dock acted as an anchor, keeping it from moving too far away.
"Oh no." He muttered as he realized Arya had created a perfect bullseye, never mind it was an arm's length away from a platform made of solid wood.
While he'd been staring at the fallen props Arya had somehow managed to climb back atop her dragon's head. Concerned cried could be heard all around. Mother's told their children not to look, people whispered prayers, Daemon however said nothing until the little boy he'd been seated next to grabbed his hand and squeezed anxiously asking, "Is she gonna jump again?"
"It would appear so."
"What if she hits the platform?"
The dragon flew higher.
He answered the child honestly, "She'll die if she lands anywhere but in the water."
He held tight to the random boy's hand as Arya shouted another command they were too far away to hear.
It was so much worse than he'd thought. As she dove off the top of her dragon Drogon tilted his head down following the action and breathing out fire. An action which caused everyone to lose sight of the girl for a few very precious important seconds. Only for Arya to reappear unscathed as she landed directly on target. Her body like a knife as it sliced through the middle of the floating hoop and into the dark water below.
It was the bravest stupidest most reckless thing he'd ever seen. The sound of the crowd's applause and cheers could have drowned out a dying dragon.
He now understood why no one he spoke to would spoil the show for him. It was not a thing of amusement, a passing entertainment; it was art. Arya was an artist. A mad and a fearless girl.
"Wow." The little boy shouted, shaking Daemon's hand in his excitement, he and his sister both jumping up and down with glee.
"Indeed." Daemon agreed as he let out a shrill whistle of appreciation.
.
.
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Reference Pictures
Notes:
Okay so, some author notes:
I want my Arya to have echoes of the canon Arya, but ultimately be something new. She will continue to slowly regain memories as she is confronted with things that are familiar to her which in turn jog her memory to a certain extent, but I am going to be vague about what she remembers right now. So, this is a version of Arya we have never seen. She is NOT fueled by vengeance. She does NOT remember her family dying. She DOES remember the things she learned along the way, to be smart and adapt and lie and fight and whatnot. But, this is an Arya who has the power of a Dragon at her disposal and no one is seemingly forcing her to do anything she doesn't want to or to BE anything in particular. This is an Arya free to choose and do what makes her happy. And I think what makes her happy is to be physically active. And given that Braavos has a big drama department, I think she would be talked into doing some sort of spectacle thing with Drogon and then learn some acrobat stuff from the other troupe members. Also I am letting her age be vague and teenager-ish, I want it to be a matter of perception a bit, because as an underfed and small child her growth was probably stunted and thus looks younger than her actual age. And since she doesn't remember her life and her actual age, thus it is really only a guess-estimate based on her appearance.
And I know Pyltho tavern is in Game Of Thrones era, so I was thinking a Princess Bride / Dread Pirate Roberts deal, like there have been lots of people calling themselves a pirate and jsut setting up shop in this tavern calling themselves the same name and just finding new people to take over when they die or retire, okay? Okay, just go with it I know its a bit of a stretch.
AND I also wanted to address how Out of Character Drogon is, I know. And, I have an explanation, I just can't reveal it yet, just know that I get that Drogon is acting weird and non canon compliant, it is for a reason.
Feel free to ask questions about anything you want in the comments, I will try to answer if it will not have spoilers.
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