good dirt | arya stark

fourteen: the dragon and the rose

Everyone was waiting. The King of the North was returning within an hour with the last surviving member of House Targaryen, the house that wanted her throne back. Word had it that Daenerys Stormborn had been busy conquering and ruling across the Narrow Sea.

Irene wrung her hands in nervousness. She hadn't ever met Daenerys Targaryen, but she had heard about her. She was too new to have books about her, but stories that involved her didn't need ink. They were stories that would be passed on from generation to generation by any means necessary, even if it meant by mouth. After all, who else could raise dragons and hell and make heaven at the same time?

She wondered what Daenerys was really like. The stories were something to go on. The Breaker of Chains. The Unburnt. The Mother of Dragons. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. All of it was something and more. At the end of the day, Irene didn't care about that. She cared that her grandmother trusted in her.

Irene stood with all the rest in the crowd, Eris by her side, standing where she stood out in her colorful clothing. Maybe that was how Sansa spotted her.

   "Lady Tyrell," Sansa Stark called, her voice unintentionally silencing them all. "Come wait here."

  Irene made a move to follow her friend, but stopped when Eris wasn't moving. "You too, Eris." They moved past the gate, walking swiftly and with purpose. Irene held her breath, waiting to see Brandon Stark sitting there in his chair, looking as blank as ever. The two locked eyes from across the bustling field, and she smiled softly. She got not much in return. She looked for Arya, too, who she found wasn't present.

   "I don't know how to feel," Sansa muttered quietly from beside her, her eyes on one spot as she spilled her worries to Irene. "I don't trust this Dragon Queen."

  "You haven't met her." Irene answered, attempting to give Daenerys Targaryen the benefit of the doubt. "If we don't like her within half a fortight, we toss her."

  "You don't understand, Irene." Sansa clenched her jaw, wringing her gloveless hands together. "This woman wants to rule the Seven Kingdoms."

   Irene nodded, a small smile growing onto her face as she continued to be more and more of a smart ass. "Most do."

"Irene, just because this isn't about you doesn't meen you get to be so indifferent." Sansa's voice was quiet, cruel. "This Targaryen wants the Seven Kingdoms just like her ancestors, and she's starting with the North. This visit isn't just to hand over the Dragonglass and for us to see the dragons."

Irene sighed, finally understanding that humor wouldn't be working on Sansa Stark this time. "My grandmother trusted her." Sansa's body stopped tensing and she looked at Irene, her eyes similar to the look that was constantly in Bran's. The only difference was that she was slightly angry.

   "And where is she now?"

The two women were now actively facing each other, Irene's face now as hard and agitated as it had ever been. Irene's arms that were handing limply at her sides were now crossed at her chest as she analyzed her close friend. Irene, for the first time in a long time, was severely hurt. And Sansa didn't look the least bit apologetic. Irene waited for a few seconds, her eyes slowly raking over every feature of Sansa's before backing away and nodding once.

"Okay, Sansa."

"I'll be escorting My Lady back to her chambers." Eris said gruffly, daring to glare at Sansa before taking Irene's arm and leading her away from the scene, just as dragons were beginning to fly overhead.

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Maybe it was just Irene having a temper tantrum, but she didn't want to see Sansa after what she had said to her. In all their years together, none of them had ever said anything like that to each other, not once. In all honesty, it had infuriated her.