Arya Stark

Dragonstone, 400 years after the Doom

"What is that?"

She asked the servant that had yet to attend to her as she arrived with a pot and put something inside of it and placing it above the open fire in the centre of her room at the Targaryen manse. Wincing as a brush was pulled through her hair and having to think of anything but what was happening to run away from it all. She knew from Aemon that Valyrian's believed that no speck of dirt could be visible- and that included on people. In Winterfell, she was made to bathe every four days by her mother. Something she despised and especially disliked Sansa as she only had to bathe once a week on her mothers demands. Recalling the many explanations she had been given of why that was such a thing.

"Your sister does not have the same interests as yourself. Whilst she sews with Jeyne and Beth, you are frequently playing in the mud left over when the summer snows melt by noon with your cousins and brothers. A Princess must always be presentable."

Every single time she got the talk, her response would always be she did not wish to be a Princess if it meant this frequently. This would then lead to her mother sighing loudly but not speaking farther on the matter. She'd done so when she was much younger and more impressionable, yet the words had never stuck, and her mother knew that now and no longer tried. The brush was put away now and Arya sighed in relief but this did not last for long as she felt a metal comb begin to work through her hair with such force it felt like her scalp was being carved. Wincing heavily and closing her eyes and thinking of what the day may hold.

After noon, they were going to be shown around the city. Or as much of it as they could be shown given the sheer size of Dragonstone. Many more people were expected to arrive over the coming days and a part of her wished to be outside to see if any of the other Valyrian's would arrive on dragonback. She recalled the day when her father had gathered them into his solar with their mother to confirm their Valyrian cousins were coming to live with them for two years as per their custom of living with their mothers family for a set time if the mother was not of the same House as the father. Delighted was not a good enough word to describe it as she'd always loved the stories of the strong Valyrian women- especially some of the Targaryen women as they were family through marriage.

Her favourites were always Maeressa and Visenya though. Visenya had been one of the three siblings who had raised their House in such a way no one could say it wasn't highly impressive. Being one of a handful documented to have had extensive knowledge in the sacred arts lost in the original Freehold and using this to both herself and her siblings advantage. Many said she was evil, a sin, someone who deserved to be burned alive for her actions. She never thought so though, although she also didn't know the extent of her knowledge on the sacred arts and if she ever used sacrifices to fuel them like the Valyrian's of Old were said to do.

Maeressa on the other hand, was different. Being one of the five who had initially moved to Dragonstone when her niece had a dream so vivid it convinced Aenar Targaryen to leave Valyria forever. Said to be quiet, dutiful, and spending more time in the skies than her siblings, niece, and son. Yet when the Volantene's had initially resisted the Caeniar's settling in the city after the Doom and had began a revolt, she had devoted herself to learn to defend herself. Within five years she'd mastered the blade and if the stories were true, she had died in battle with her son by her side.

Her thoughts were interrupted however as she felt a hot thick liquid be spread on her exposed legs. Confusion whirring as a piece of cloth was cut off a roll that must've just been brought in as she hadn't seen it before and was placed over the hot liquid which appeared to be hardening.

"What is- ouch!"

She yelped as the cloth was pulled away. Ripping every piece of hair there was from the area and leaving the skin underneath tender and turning pink. Still, no one answered her as they continued to apply it all over her until her whole body felt like it was on fire. Not to mention the tingling, having to remind herself it was not bugs crawling all over her body that had caused such a feeling.

"Skore ñuha brōzi issa?" (What is your name?)

She asked, having to concentrate harder from the amount of pain she was in now as they began to rub lotions into her skin which immediately soothed the burning sensation.

"Valaena, ñuhys Dārilaros." (Valaena, my Princess)

No other words were spoken after this as the comb and that hot sticky liquid was taken away along with the cloths. By now, the burning sensation had disappeared fully and the servants began to twist her hair into a more traditional Valyrian style. Starting from the centre of her hairline, two small braids which slowly integrated more hair the closed to her ears they got before conjoining both in the centre and from what she felt seemed as though they were braiding in a circular motion. Powders were brought out to add to her face which she had initially refused before Valaena explained in common that it would help with the sun and so she had accepted. After what felt like hours she was finally helped into a gown with a loose skirt that covered what seemed to be breeches. Valaena confirming the Dragonlord families women favoured this type of garment as it was simpler to ride on dragonback due to such a thing. Getting to look at herself in a looking glass now and having to pause.

She looked...pretty.

A word she had never considered herself to be. For her entire life she had solely been horseface or underfoot. When her mother wasn't looking Sansa and Jeyne would neigh at her like she was an animal. Consistently made the subject of a jape due to her awkwardly long face. For the first time that morning, a smile came onto her face at getting to see both Sansa and Jeyne's faces that she could look pretty. It wouldn't be a common thing, and it felt strange to have cloth directly against her skin and not having a barrier of body hair.

A guard was outside her door to escort her to the dining hall where they would be breaking their fast that morning. Two being from Winterfell whose eyes widened as they took her in for only a moment before doing their duty. The others must've already been seated at the table and she was proven correct upon entering the large hall with a stained glass room which bounced against the polished white marble walls that were intricately carved.

"Who else has arrived through the night, father?"

Aemon asked in common so they could all understand better. She herself was decent with the Valyrian language but far from great at it, but her younger two brothers at best could only have basic conversations. In time that would likely change but as of now it was not to be.

"The Rhaeleris' arrived just after dawn alongside the Otherys'. The Mellarys' and Celtigar's arrived late into the night and are currently settling into their accommodation."

Three names Arya knew, but the second one mentioned was not one she recognised. Her face must've shown her confusion as her aunt answered for her.

"The Otherys' are not one of the Eleven, yet they do have Valyrian blood. Their founder was one of the many dragonseeds of whom they called 'The Unworthy'."

That name she knew. The fourth lord Freeholder Aegon had a string of lovers to go with his wives Daena (whom he had married to preserve her honour after their brother had renounced his betrothal to her) and Naerys. He'd tried to say that he had taken their mothers to wife but no one had believed such as there had been no witnesses. This leading to multiple rebellions from the Riverland's especially considering two of the mothers were from prominent Riverland's House's. For a Kingdom that was still considered very new as it had only been formed one-hundred-and-nineteen years prior, it had almost as much blood as Kingdom's much longer established.

The food was brought out then, neither of it recognisable to her other than the fish. What kind of fish was difficult to tell though that had been lightly grilled until visible char lines were visible on the meat. The only other thing that was somewhat recognisable was a soup of some kind but it was so thin it was more a water consistency whereas in the North soups were often thickened with barley and flour. Despite this though, she did try it and found she enjoyed the incredibly salty tasting soup. Once finished, Arya looked around at everyone and felt a little joy at the look Sansa was giving her but refusing to let it show. She'd promised her mother she would try not to pick a fight with her sister whilst in Dragonstone. Noticing that Rhaenys, her mother, her aunt, Daenerys, and Rhaella had patterns drawn onto their chests and around their shoulders.

"What is the markings on your chest for?"

Her mother opened her mouth to retaliate for speaking out of turn but was quickly quietened by her father as he was looking to his younger sister in curiosity.

"It is tradition for the women who are a part of the eleven either by blood or by marriage to have their skin stained a deep red in traditional Valyrian patterns for large events."

Rhaenys replied as her finger trailed along her own which seemed to blend into her deep burgundy gown.

"But it's brown?"

That was Jonathor who spoke, her uncle glaring at his son for his words but was cut off by her aunt laughing at the remark.

"It is a brown liquid initially which hardens, the longer it is left on the darker the stain will be once it is washed off. We have yet to wash ours, we will be doing so this evening."

Again, she frowned a little but found she didn't have much else to say on the matter as they were given a more in depth tour of the Targaryen manse (the sacred alters interesting her the most alongside the urns which contained the cremated remains of most previous members of the House).

"When will we be leaving?"

Robb asked in curiosity which got her excited as she wished to see how the city ran. She'd read about it and she had bothered Maester Luwin on it who had come to Winterfell for her mother and worked with their Governess on it often enough. They hadn't seen much considering the manse itself was surrounded by multiple walls and hedges just as large as the walls.

"We have morning prayers yet after these, we will leave for the city."

She opened her mouth about to ask if she could join in with the prayers but a firm glare from her father prevented the question from leaving her mouth. Instead opting to wandering around the outdoors and especially to the pond filled with crystal clear water. She wasn't alone, being joined by Alys who shyly asked the servant some questions but the servant shook their head in a way that Aemon had confirmed meant they did not speak common tongue. Eyes trailing to the paved path they were walking along and being honestly surprised at how comfortable the dress she wore was. Mayhaps she could ask the seamstresses in Winterfell to make her gowns as such and her mother may not scowl at her so often for wearing breeches like the boys as they were easier to move in.

They spotted a section in the pond where there was a circular portion of brickwork right at the entrance and once there spotted multiple steps leading down into the section they were at which wasn't as deep as the rest. Knowing that at some point this day she was going to enjoy the cool water considering the heat here was beginning to get to her. The sea breeze from the Narrow Sea helped massively but it was still considerably warmer than she was used to. By the time the servants arrived to confirm the morning prayers had been completed for the day, they made their way back towards the entrance of the manse where multiple Valyrian horses awaited them in gleaming golden coats that seemed to sparkle in direct light.

Originally coming from the deserts to the north of Mantarys, they had become a staple for both their visual appearance and for their narrow build. They were not bred for war or for heavy lifting, they were bred for show and for pleasure. Multiple awaited them and she was led to one that was black but the gleam in its coat made it look like onyxes were glued to its skin. They were truly beautiful creatures. Quickly taking the reins and using a small wall to hoist herself up into its saddle and being in awe at how comfortable it was for her to sit atop due to how narrow its build was. Mayhaps if she was kind enough here, her uncle may allow her to take one back to Winterfell with her.

Now, they were all saddled and began making their way towards the gates. A few guards were following them and it did momentarily set her on edge as Dragonguard's never showed their faces. Instead opting to wear ornate masks with multiple ancient Valyrian glyphs that very few people knew how to read. The current writing system had been in place for a little over one thousand years, yet before this there had been two others. One prior to the Ghiscari wars, and another afterwards that was still not only written but spoken in the Ghiscari cities. Each mask had a slit for mouths, two dots in order to breathe, and the eye sockets were exposed. Other than that, everything else was hidden from view. At least it wasn't only them coming, seeing a handful of Stark and Ryswell guards there too who looked very out of place with their more northern clothing.

"When does the festival begin?"

Jeyne asked, a hint of excitement in her voice that Arya detected. Rolling her eyes a little because the last thing she wanted to have something in common with was with Jeyne Poole. They were on one of the many dragon roads now, the streets were carved into the ground and then filled with molten rock which solidified to give a perfectly smooth surface. They'd been gifted by Rhaegar to the North and they'd been a boon for the Kingdom as far as trade and travel went.

"It has already begun, but it will not begin wholly until every guest has arrived."

The excitement grew at Aegon's words, his deep purple eyes having mirth in them which confirmed she was not hiding it from her expression. Not that she cared, her mother wasn't here to scold her and from a quick glance at Sansa she was also grinning at not being able to hide her own. Arya wished to see it all; the fights, the vendors that littered the streets, the performers both professional and those in the streets, the sacred dances, the fire tricks that she still was not entirely sure if Aemon had been telling the truth when she had asked a few weeks prior. If he wasn't though, she was going to see people swallowing flames whole and not be harmed.

Only now did she realise they had seemed to split, with all the women and girls on the right and the men and boys on the left. Excluding the guards that is who were all men from what she guessed and were both in front and behind them so they were covered. The buildings on either side were so tall she wondered if they were as tall as the Wall was. She'd never visited the ancient structure of the North herself but she'd heard enough about it. Multiple levels on each building and numerous balconies with people standing on and looking down at them all curiously.

"Why are the buildings like that?"

Cregan asked now, Arya being confused for a minute at his words before Daenerys answered from her left.

"Dragonstone city is large in area, yet it is not large enough to house the entire population. Since we cannot solely rely on the Dragonmont leaking molten rock and expanding the land mass that way, we instead worked with what we had. So we built upwards instead of solely building outwards."

The idea of families living atop one another was strange to her, yet the reasoning made sense and therefore she raised no question on the matter. Noticing at the corners of every street there were glyphs which she couldn't read herself as she had yet to start learning how to read Valyrian. Stopping outside what appeared to be a temple of sorts made of that same pristine white marble yet with almost no carvings on it. Fourteen pillars between where they were to the entrance of the building that had a large tower ascending so far into the sky no matter how much Arya craned her neck she could not see the top of.

"This is the Dragonstone's Grand Temple of the Fourteen."

"Can we go inside?"

The words left her mouth before she could think and when numerous eyes turned to her she shrunk a little on her black Valyrian horse.

"Aye, the guards must remain outside though as this is a holy place."

The Stark and Ryswell guards stiffened at Aemon's words but did as he said. All dismounting and walking up the fourteen steps and past the pillars towards the large arched doorway. A latch being opened at the top as a gruff voice spoke in an accent she could not decipher.

"Īlon Rhaenys, Daenerys, Aemon, Viserys, Aegon, Rhaellā iksi hen Targārien Lentrot. Tubī rijīblion majēbili." (We are Rhaenys, Daenerys, Aemon, Viserys, Aegon, and Rhaella of House Targaryen. Today we will enter the temple.)

Clearly this was enough as the door was opened with a creak that made her wince and her ears hurt. Those hinges needed a good oiling as they were clearly very old. Wondering for a moment if this building had been here before Aenar had fled for Dragonstone with his wives and children four hundred years prior.

Compared to the exterior, the interior was surprisingly dark. Being made of the same molten rock the dragon roads were made of it seemed. Feeling a pair of eyes on them all distrusting of them but refusing to go against who would one day be leading Dragonstone. Circlets were brought their way by whom she assumed was an elder from her readings- the clothing matched at least. Feeling the circlets be placed on their heads and feeling a heat that had not been there before. Understanding why as she noticed they were on fire! Arya reached up to try and remove the circlet but Viserys reached out to stop her and speaking aloud.

"It is not true fire. You need not worry, it will not hurt nor will you burn."

The words didn't soothe her much because how could something that was not true appear so real? Gulping and nodding a little as they were led down the dark corridors that had no carvings on the walls either. This stopped though as they walked out into a large gathering room with fourteen pillars but these ones were carved. Instantly knowing they were carved to the likeness of the Fourteen Gods of Valyria. Not only were they carved but they had been painted to further confirm whom they were of. Baerax understandably, was in the centre of the room and the carving was considerably taller than the other thirteen which were equally spread out. The God of Gods, with his thirteen dragon heads which were differing colours to signify every other god. From Maeryx's grey to Tyraxes' purple.

"Are those dragon eggs lining the walls?"

Bran asked in wonder. Arya tearing her gaze away from the carved pillars to look at the walls and seeing he was indeed correct. Eggs of every shape and every colour imaginable stood upright on many shelves along the walls. Both Daenerys and Aegon remaining behind for a moment to look at two in particular and recognising the bright turquoise egg as it matched the pendant Daenerys wore. Realisation dawning on her that these eggs had all turned to stone which was why neither were being incubated.

"How many are there?"

"A few hundred at least, I've never counted myself. Some were never quickened and some just never hatched. They are still beautiful to look at though."

It was Aegon who replied as he finally stepped away from the indigo and white egg to stand with them.

"How can there be an egg that has never quickened?"

Bran asked, Arya groaning aloud at the question but Rhaella found it amusing and was surprisingly the first to answer. The flaming circlet atop her head making her look even more traditionally Valyrian than she already did.

"Chickens lay eggs that are not quickened. Whilst dragons are not chickens, it is a similar idea."

It was a simple enough answer and Bran let out a small 'oh' at how dumb he had sounded with his question. They did not remain in the Temple for much longer, making their way outside and riding towards the arena. The ground spanning more than one hundred metres and easily two dozen rows of benches in a circle around the ground. People were out in the centre as they took their seats, being mesmerised at the group of young women dancing so softly it was like they were made of silk themselves. Not even so much as a sound leaving them and only once looking closer did she notice they were standing directly on their toes which must have been painful. Yet they didn't appear to be in pain. Sansa's and Jeyne's eyes were latched onto their every moves and she wondered how long it would take for her sister to bat her lashes at their mother and ask to be taught how to dance like that.

Alas, they did not remain out for much longer and were replaced by a few dozen men this time. Half with whips and half with what appeared to be long sticks. A large trough in the centre was lit and from where they were seated she could still feel the heat from the open flame. Wondering what they were doing but her eyes widened in shock as the whips were set alight and the men began to crack them in ways in such unison it created a flaming pattern. Slowly moving as close to the edge of the bench as she could to see better but Viserys noticed and made a gesture for the man to come closer so she did not need to do so. A loud 'whooshing' noise broke her from her trance as she turned to see what it was as one of the men raised his poker which was alight at the tip, drink something, being the flame closer to his lips, and a large jet of flame to leave. So Aemon hadn't been lying about such a thing! Her joy must've been obvious as her cousin was laughing merrily her way as the man done it again and again and finally extinguishing the flame by putting it directly into his mouth.

"How?"

That was all she could ask as someone translated for her but who it was she could not tell due to not focusing their way.

"It is a secret of the Freehold, he says."

That had been Rhaenys who spoke who was also biting back a laugh. They remained there for a while watching all the performers who were practising for the welcoming festival which would occur the day after everyone had arrived. If these were simply practises, Arya could not wait for the real thing. From here, they had travelled to the main square where multiple street vendors were already set up selling everything from pottery to jewellery to fresh pastries that still had steam rising from them they were so fresh. Then to the Temple of the Lord of Light where the Red Priests lived yet they did not enter. To Triarch's triangle as it was jokingly referred to of the three manses on the south eastern coast of Dragonstone were placed in such a way the ground between them did appear triangular. It was when they finally made their way back to one of the dragon roads and were atop their horses again that something occurred. Or more, someone appeared. Maela Velaryon was there but she was also there with another woman of a similar age and a man a few years older.

"You did not tell me your brother and cousin had arrived yet, dear wife."

Viserys spoke teasingly towards his wife. Getting off his mount and embracing her warmly. Words were exchanged but they were speaking too quickly for her to figure out what it was they were saying. Rhaella got off her horse now as she ran towards Maela again who like on the ship to Dragonstone, caught her with ease. Once it became clear her younger cousin was remaining here as was Viserys, both Monterys and Aeressa Velaryon took the now free horses as they rode deeper into the heart of the city towards the manse again. Monterys had the same face shape as his sister but his hair was slightly darker. He also had vivid violet eyes similar to Daenerys' whereas Maela's were a pale icy blue. Aeressa had a slightly darker skin tone than her husband, with hair just as curly as Maela's but more golden-blonde to the silvery-gold Maela's was. This wasn't what was unique about her though, she had different eye colours. One was the same pale icy blue as her cousins, and the other was lilac. Often seen as either a curse or luck given the handful of other recorded Valyrian's who had different eye colours.

"Izulo ampō ondoso- " (By the fourteen- )

Aegon suddenly said which caused them all to stop and look to him quizzically. Aemon being the one to ask the question they all wanted to know the answer to.

"Skore ūja issa, lēkius?" (What is it, brother?)

Aegon pointed up ahead towards a large ornate wheelhouse being pulled by four golden coated Valyrian horses confirming another family had appeared. Yet not everyone was inside, seeing a head of silver so bright it looked like a mirror in the small crowd surrounding the wheelhouse.

"Jurnegon! Kaenrondo!" (Look! The Caeniar's!)

The Caeniar's? What had surprised Aegon and now Aemon so much they were staring with their mouths hanging open slightly.

"Pōnte dekurūbis- " (They're walking- )

"Ninkiot- " (On the ground- )

Robb clearly had enough as he cut in on the brothers conversation.

"Skoro syt kesa beka issa?" (Why is this odd?)

Arya struggled to hide a grin at how odd the Valyrian tongue sounded in a northern accent. When Sansa had been learning she had made certain to learn the accent somewhat too but Robb had never bothered doing so. Glad that they were talking slow enough for her to understand what was being said.

"Pōnte Ñāqa Valyri issi, Robis. Pōnte dōrī hen pōja lenta dekurūbisi." (They are Eastern Valyrian, Robb. They never walk outside their manses.)

"Skorkydoso aerēbisi?" (How do they travel?)

Her brother asked as he was still confused by the surprise on Aegon and Aemon's faces. It was Monterys who answered considering the two brothers were not going to do so now.

"Pōnte neveksi." (They are carried.)

"Nevekson?" (Carried?)

He asked incredulously, now understanding why Aegon and Aemon were so surprised. Clearly this was not something that was often done if it was ever done.

"Sparos dekurūbis, Aegos?" (Who is walking, Aegon?)

This seemed to snap the silver-haired Targaryen brother out of his own trance as he turned to Monterys. Noticing now they were closer there were two of them walking that she could see and not just one.

"Hen lanto hāraño jurnes." (Looks like two of the triplets.)

"Baemala mēre issa, jāha hen nāqor kostilla iksos daor." (Baemala is one, she is not for east values.)

The next words were muttered by Aemon and it generated a few laughs from those with them.

"Nyke parolossi ajorrāelan. Daor, nyke visororossi ajorrāelan." (I need some parolos. No, I need some visoros.)

Arya knew what they were. Valyrian drinks that were so strong in taste even strong wines and ales tasted like water in comparison. She'd never tried it herself, being deemed too young but the few people she'd seen try the drinks in question had all made questionable faces at the strength.

"Skorkydoso pōjor ōghrar jonevesi?" (How are they wearing their hair?)

Aeressa asked, confusion in her own voice as she stretched her neck out to get a better look.

"Skorkydoso kona baelilaks?" (How will that help?)

Only now did she speak, her own accent sounding odd in the Valyrian tongue and spotting Robb smirk her way which confirmed he knew she had found it amusing when he had spoken too.

"Baemala tokara joneves, Jelaerya kynar jārho ōghrār joneves, Visenyā pālēs joneves." (Baemala wears brooches, Jelaerya wears ribbons in her hair, and Visenya wears braids.)

"Hen kesīr urnegon koston daor." (I cannot see from here.)

By now, they were outside the walls of the manse. Momentarily shocked by such a thing as it only felt like a few minutes had passed since they had met up with the Velaryon's.

"Aderī gīmīli." (We will know soon.)