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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
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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 4: Arya, part 1
Summary:
Arya POV
Notes:
I am trying to update one chapter every weekend, so far so good.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 4
~Arya, part 1~
"Come with me to Pentos." Daemon whispered near her ear. She could tell he'd tried to sneak up on her while she was drinking her ale, but his feet fell too heavy to achieve his goal. After seeing her real dragon show any revulsion he held for her as a disreputable dragon rider had evaporated and he'd become her biggest fan. Sort of.
In the two days since they'd had their first real conversation, he'd hovered around her like a fly on shit. She found it both irritating and endearing.
He'd tried for subtly at first, describing the guest house he was currently squatting at in all its splendor. He'd tried enticing her with gifts, mostly food and trinkets, but he promised more if she visited Pentos. He'd even tried tugging at her heart strings, speaking of his lovely family and the companionship she could have, if only she joined him.
"Come meet my family and let me help you." His voice was low and seductive.
She scoffed and baited him to argue the point further, "Help me? I wasn't aware I was in need of rescuing."
Gracefully Daemon sat in the chair next to her instead of across from her like he usually did, "Do you not want to uncover the mystery of who you truly are?"
She frowned. Based on the scars that littered her body she had ideas of what her life used to be like and as such she was not eager to reclaim it. "Not really."
Daemon's lips pouted and his eyebrows furrowed in a comical way, she hid her amusement by taking a sip from her cup. "How can you not be curious?" He questioned sounding demanding.
She shrugged enjoying the simple pleasure of winding him up. He continued, "What if you have a family out there somewhere looking for you?"
It was her turn to pout, "They are dead."
He leaned forward, "Did you get a new memory?"
She shook her head and took another drink. This time a long one. "I just know it." She put a fist to her heart, "Here."
Daemon's eyes dipped down to her chest; his face sympathetic. "You could be wrong."
She smiled an ugly smile, "I'm not."
Unexpectedly he nodded accepting her answer for true. She offered him her glass; he smiled crookedly and took a swig before returning it. He scooted his chair closer and put an arm over the back of her chair, he did not stink as bad as most men so she allowed the contact. Frankly it was entertaining to see him try so many different tactics of persuasion. She admired how tenacious he was in the wake of her every rejection.
And if she was truly honest with herself, she enjoyed being touched in such a familiar way. Drogon's approval of Daemon gave her a freedom to trust and it was…nice.
He spoke softly directly into her ear, "If you come with me, I promise you won't regret it."
"You know I make very good money here." His arm slipped from the chair and wrapped around her shoulders, as if he was trying to prevent her from running away.
"With an act like yours you could make money anywhere." There was the barest touch of his nose against her cheek as he said, "Not that you'll need it if you come stay with me."
"Do you know how weird it is that you're inviting me to stay at some random man's house?"
"Manse." He corrected.
"A manse you do not own and therefore don't really have the authority to invite anyone to?"
With a scowl he grabbed her cup and drained it dry. "I am a Prince and it is an honor to host me and my family and whatever guests I wish to host myself."
She snorted, "I'm sure."
He looked into her eyes quietly for a few seconds, "You're not really worried about money. What holds you back from accepting my offer?"
She broke the unsettling eye contact by leaning her head on his shoulder. "You are right. I have no need for coin, I give most of my money to the House of Black and White."
"Why?"
She contemplated lying. But she thought of Drogon. TRUST. He wanted her to trust Daemon, and her dragon had not steered her wrong yet so, "I've sort of been paying in advance, for assassinations."
She lifted her head to take in his reaction. His face was like stone. "For whom?"
She smiled and reached for his face bopping him on the nose, "Child rapists." He batted her hand away, she continued, "Child murderers and abusers."
His seriousness was humorous to her. With all the authority of a battle commander he demanded, "Why would you do that?"
"Why not?" She darted forward and kissed the end of his nose feeling unusually playful.
He grabbed her writs in a tight hold, his whole demeanor becoming aggressive, "Arya--"
Angered by the shift in mood she interrupted with her teeth barred, "Why not do some good? I have a dragon, no one can hurt me anymore. The same is not so for others."
She wrenched her hands out of his grip and shoved aggressively at his chest. It did little to move him. "I told you I remembered being blinded and begging." She waited for him to give a sign he remembered, when he nodded, she finished, "I know what it is to live by the kindness of others, it is rare. I wish the world wasn't a shit place filled with shit people but it is. Mostly. Mostly, the world is shit. I don't think I change that, I'm not delusional, I don't think anyone can."
Daemon tried to interject, "Then why--?"
She cut him off, "We might not be able to stop the worst things from happening, but we can avenge them. Justice is not out of reach. And by funding the House of Black and White I've given the most powerless in this city, someone to turn to. And by setting such a sever example, perhaps people will learn."
She enjoyed preforming, but it was a pastime, a means to keep active, it was not who she was. Deep down she knew she was fueled by vengeance and that scared her. Drogon understood this implicitly. She had so much wrath in her heart that if she didn't have a good cause to direct it at, she could burn down the world. And so, helping people, children especially, it was her North Star. To channel all the rage inside her into something good was the only way to salvage a soul such as hers. Be good. Do good. It was like a mantra.
Staring into Daemon's eyes, part of her wanted to run away, being this honest was uncomfortable. But a bigger part of her just wanted someone to understand and say she wasn't crazy, for feeling how she felt and doing what she was. And weirdly enough, she felt like Daemon Targaryen just might.
"I used to command the City Watch of Kings Landing." Gold cloaks and shining armor flashed in her mind like lightning, an image so clear for only a few seconds before fading away. Sounding almost confused he said, "You're a good person."
She laughed, but it sounded hollow even to her own ears, "No."
"Yes." He argued, a smirk slowly growing, his arm slipping around her shoulders once more. "You are good and kind and bloodthirsty."
She laughed again, that description sounded more accurate. He whispered in her ear, "Come with me to Pentos."
She turned so they were now nose to nose, "Daemon," She rubbed his nose with her own, "I was always going to go with you."
He jerked back, shocked. She laughed in his face, the sound more alive than before. She put her hand on his face and pushed him away from her further, this allowed her to snuggle into the crook of his arm more comfortably. He stiffened but did not push her away and so she considered it all her victory.
Ever since Drogon had sent the message TRUST when it came to Daemon, she knew in her heart that her time in Braavos was ending. She did not let on that her mind was made up in his favor because it was fun, someone trying to win her over. She hoped he would not take offence.
Daemon raised his hand to the barmaid indicating they wanted two more ales. They sat in silence until they had been served.
"You are very good," He commented, "I did not know you were toying with me."
She smirked as she took another long pull from her cup. "I know."
.
.
.
3 Months Later
The blacksmith's apprentice did not resemble Gendry at all in looks or temperament. But he was a very good kisser and had a well sculpted body, so she indulged herself.
"You're so b-beautiful." The young man whispered as they broke contact to take a breath. The man, his name either Yancy or Yandel, it had been hard to hear in the tavern, had a bit of stutter she found unattractive.
She bit down on his lower lip and playfully hissed, "Liar."
Yancy, she decided, laughed at her. His strong hands gripped her ass and squeezed, pulling her closer to his body. As she was already straddling him, she doubted they could get closer without losing the few layers of clothes between them. "You ar-r-e though."
He continued raining down praise as he sucked kisses into the tender flesh of her neck. "B-beautiful, b-brave, kind." He bit her shoulder through the fabric of her shirt, "S-sexy."
The compliments made her feel equal parts warm and uncomfortable. She gripped his hair tightly and pulled his head back, kissing him quickly she muttered, "I like it so much better when you're not talking."
The young man accepted the unspoken direction and they went back to kissing.
A little while later, when her top was gone and she was contemplating removing her breeches, they were interrupted. Rudely. "Oh hello."
Daemon smiled brightly as he held his torch aloft, illuminating their half-naked bodies. There was an edge to his cheerful words, "What a happy coincidence to find you hiding behind the very tree I was about to piss on."
Yancy was bright red. Unlike she, he was completely naked by now and only had her half-dressed body in his lap to hide his shame. She pet the man's hair soothingly as he ducked his head down into her shoulder to avoid Daemon's unwavering gaze. She could hear him stuttering into her skin, praying for mercy. She didn't bother telling him they would receive none, from the Gods or Daemon.
"Luckily the forest of Pentos is thick with trees and you have many others to choose from on which to relieve yourself." She tried very hard to act unaffected but she was quite upset with herself for being snuck up on. Granted she was distracted and a bit drunk, but she still should have heard him coming.
"Ah, but I had my heart set on this one." Daemon's eyes danced across her body taking in all the naked skin on display, though not in a lecherous way. She did not like the furrow in his brow as he lingered on her scars. She glared and he smiled brighter.
"Daemon," She paused for dramatic effect, "Fuck off."
"No." The pinched look of his lips spoke to his displeasure; he didn't like it when she was so openly disrespectful. She tracked his hand as it moved to rest on Dark Sister's hilt. "I think not."
"Gods be m-m-merciful." The man between her thighs was now trembling and not in a fun way. And just like that she knew the mood was irrevocably ruined. With a sigh, heedless of the eyes of her audience, she got to her feet and retrieved her shirt from where she had thrown it. And if there was a bit of a sway in her step, no one dared speak of it.
"It is late." She conceded, deeply annoyed by her young companion's persistence to avoid all eye contact as he tugged his clothes back on.
Daemon put a possessive arm around her shoulders once she was dressed.
"M'lady, Milord." Yancy whispered as he scuttled past them, jogging back to the safety of town and witnesses.
With a pout she looked up at Daemon, "Do you really have to piss or did you follow me just to be a cunt again?"
He smiled, not answering verbally, he handed her the torch and went to the tree unlacing his breeches. Arya, childishly wanted to make him feel as uncomfortable as he had her. Stepping closer she used the torch to illuminate his cock as he took himself in hand and began to piss on the tree.
He gave her a funny look for watching, but he didn't look ashamed as she had intended. This made her frown because in fact there was a hint of pride as he shook off the last few droplets and laced himself back up.
"You're such a shit." She grumbled as she handed him back the torch.
Without another word exchanged between them Daemon walked her back to the tavern they had begun the evening in. After settling his tab, they got on their horses and began the short ride back to the manse.
It was only when they were halfway 'home' that Daemon could not restrain himself any longer. "I thought we agreed no more low born trysts?"
She huffed, "I remind you again, you are not my father or my brother or my uncle. You have no authority over me."
"A lady's reputation--"
"I'm not a lady!" At least that's what she remembered telling Gendry. The blacksmith from her mostly forgotten former life.
"But you are a dragon rider, one I have taken into my home--"
"Not even your house."
"Into my household," Daemon pointedly ignored her protest, his voice rising slightly as he ranted on, "And as such you are under my protection. Whether you like it or not!"
"Don't need your protection." This was a common back and forth for them, and she tired of it. Ever since Daemon had convinced her to leave Braavos and follow him to Pentos, the man had been annoyingly attentive and opinionated.
She was grateful he never really pushed her or tried to control her, but it was exasperating how he was always there and he always had something to say. About the way she dressed, the company she kept, her poor table manners, the risks she took on Drogon, and finally her disinterest in learning more about her mysterious past. The more she got to know him the more his disapproval weighed on her. And it was annoying as fuck.
"How lucky you are to have an abundance of things you don't need, in this case protection." With only the moonlight to see by it was hard to make out his expression but she was pretty sure he was laughing at her.
As they dismounted from their horses and handed them off to servants Daemon grabbed her arm put his lips to her ear whispering so they would not be overheard, "Do you need Moon Tea?"
There was not an ounce of judgment in his words. He was kind like that sometimes. In little ways and when she least expected it.
Quick as a cat she pressed a kiss to his cheek, pulling back she shook her head and slipped away.
.
.
.
The next morning as she gathered food on to her plate an amused Lady Laena gently prodded, "I heard you worked up an appetite last night, I see Daemon was not exaggerating."
Arya turned a glare on Daemon and dropped the serving spoon back into porridge.
"My condolences Lady Laena, it must be a hardship to be married to such a terrible gossip." The man in question popped a grape into his mouth and smiled at his wife. The pair of them were well suited in their love. Beala and Rhaena giggled at the banter.
"I said nothing." Daemon lied.
Arya threw a grape at his head making Laena laugh as well. With a mischievous grin Baela passed her the sugar bowl, "Where did you end up going last night Arya? You and father hadn't decided when you left."
Before she could reply Rhaena added, "And what did mother mean about working up an appetite? Were you training, so late at night? That doesn't make sense."
Baela jostled her sister with her elbow, "I bet she got in a fight at the tavern."
When she had first arrived in Pentos with Daemon it had been daunting, meeting his family. He had been certain they would like her and embrace her. She had been told many times in Braavos how queer she was, even for a dragon rider, so she was not certain she would receive acceptance.
But Lady Laena was kind. Baela was curious. And Rhaena was a gentle soul. And all three had welcomed her into the fold of the family with little reservation. It wasn't long before she was joining the family for meals, going riding (horse and dragon), and occasionally sitting in on the girls' lessons. The entire experience was so foreign for her. But beautiful too.
Three moons later and she still hadn't adjusted completely. Sleeping in a bed still felt wrong sometimes. Occasionally she flinched when offered affection. And she always felt a sense of building debt when she accepted a gift.
Still from time to time, Daemon would randomly gloat about how everything turned out. It was one of his least attractive qualities.
She clung to the knowledge that the relationship between her and Daemon and his family was not all one sided.
Lady Laena let slip that before Daemon retrieved her from Braavos he had fallen into a bit of a depression. His wife had worried because he stopped going out into the city, isolating himself from the public and pushing away his family at the same time. She said he had been wallowing in discontent and resignation, drowning himself in books to the glory of his house. There with them in body, and all at once a million leagues away in mind.
"You brought him back to himself." Laena had whispered in her ear as she gave Arya a hug before bed one night, "And back to our family." It was gratitude that helped ingratiate her to Daemon's family so quickly. And for that she was thankful herself.
She could not help it, she'd grown to love them all so quickly, just three moons together and it was like something broken inside her was healing. And she didn't even know what it was that had been broken in the first place. But she was grateful for it. For the safety and love and freedom, Daemon and his family had given her.
"Arya?" Baela prompted, bringing her back to the present.
"Yes, Arya, do explain to the children what you got up to last night." Daemon said with a shit eating grin. She did her best to keep her more sinful behaviors away from innocent ears and Daemon found this trait equal parts adorable and ripe for teasing.
"Ask your father." She deflected. For good measure she threw another grape at his head, letting out a huff when he caught it in his mouth.
Lady Laena came to both their rescues, "I was thinking we might go to the bazar today." She turned to Arya, "I was hoping I might convince you to get a new dress, we are to dine with the Prince of Pentos in a weeks' time, I would like to get you something special for the occasion."
Daemon barked a laugh and Arya winced. She was not a fan of gowns, despite her many trysts with the so called low-borns, she did not have a high opinion of her looks. Her deficits were especially obvious when her lack of womanly beauty was dressed up next to someone of Laena's easy elegance.
The girls both perked up but it was Baela who boldly asked, "Instead of lessons?"
Laena smiled, "Yes."
Rhaena looked to her father shyly, "All of us?"
"All of us." Daemon confirmed as he reached over and ruffled Arya's hair, an affectionate gesture in disguise meant to put her already wild hair into further disarray. She slapped at his hand muttering, "Fuck off."
The girls giggled at her language and she threw grapes at them for it.
Before Arya's poor table manners could spread to the girls or escalate Laena reached out and smoothed down her hair announcing, "It's settled then. We'll leave in hour."
Daemon passed her the water carafe, "Do try to look presentable, hmm?"
When she took his offering with a roll of her eyes Laena clucked, "Arya always looks presentable." She glared briefly at her husband, "Her sense of style is singular and practical. I only mentioned buying a new gown because of the upcoming meeting with the prince. I thought she might want to look her best."
She smiled warmly at the older woman grateful for the support.
Daemon deadpanned, "I am a prince. Should she not dress her best for me?"
"Are you though?" She needled.
"You need a bath." Daemon said meanly.
She let the water carafe bang loudly onto the table. "I will pour this on your head, don't think I won't."
Before Daemon could say another word Laena put an end to things saying, "Two hours then." Quietly she leaned over and whispered in her ear, "He's not wrong though, you smell of stale ale and sweaty blacksmith kisses."
A smile pulled at Arya's lips even as her jaw dropped in shock, "Laena!"
Daemon's laughter was bright and boisterous, while his wife wore a satisfied grin.
.
.
.
Enjoy some of my attempts at AI art
In the Tavern Trying To Convince Arya to Come To Pentos
Notes:
I love feedback, please let me know what you think or if you have any questions
A few commenters expressed concern over Daemon/Arya due to age. I have decided (for now I might change my mind later) that they have more older brother/younger sister BFF vibes.
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