Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4820444.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, Gen
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_&
      Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Arya_Stark/Daenerys_Targaryen, Sansa_Stark/Margaery_Tyrell
  Character:
      Arya_Stark, Daenerys_Targaryen, Sansa_Stark, Margaery_Tyrell, Hot_Pie_
      (ASoIaF)
  Additional Tags:
      I_Need_To_Write_This_Pairing, To_Complete_The_Set, Of_Individual
      Relationships_That_Is, Before_I_Can_Write_The_Three-Way_Relationship,
      that_is, Jon/Arya/Dany, Cunnilingus, Fingerfucking, Vaginal_Fingering,
      Anal_Fingering, Discussion_of_Breasts, Breasts, Female_Homosexuality,
      Femslash, Face-Fucking, Basically_Two_Girls_Like_Each_Other_And_Get
      Creative, fun_fun_fun, Back_and_Forth_Dominance/Power_Play, They're_Both
      Strong_Dominant_Characters, Of_Course_There's_Power_Play, Strong_Female
      Characters, From_Chasing_Cats, To_Chasing_Each_Other, Icy!Dany,
      Firey!Arya, SlightlySociopathic!Dany, yeah_-_Freeform, I_Didn't_Expect
      That_Either.
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-03 Words: 4558
****** Searching for Something ******
by Dracones
Summary
     She finds within herself a swelling of happiness and contentment and
     love, and it more than bridges every gap she's ever felt, and for a
     moment that feels like it could last forever Daenerys is truly human,
     whole and unblemished and joyous, emotional, and, more than anything,
     happy.
     She feels better than she's ever been, and the night is only just
     beginning.
     Or, my Arya/Dany AU! Because they'd be ridiculously awesome together
     and we all know it.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The world is full of dull, uninspiring places, people, and emotions. She knows
it, in fact, everyone knows it, and she is certain that everyone knows she
knows it. She shows her disregard in her attitude, her cold and aloof mask, her
composure. Very little surprises her, as she looks at the world objectively,
seeks the truth of the matter before her, and is unfazed by the mundane nature
of most issues she encounters as she goes about her daily life.
Sometimes, she thinks she must be a little bit sociopathic. She doesn't want to
kill people, but she doesn't want to help them, either. She distances herself,
and, when forced to be close, pretends to hold some level of companionship or
association with the other people, while she can only guess at the normal
feeling behind such actions. She does what she does for herself, not her peers.
Sometimes, she wonders if she is distant simply because of some innate wish to
be different. She hates the idea of being like them, the faceless masses, so
dull, so conformist; their petty ambitions and dreams so in line with their
expected behaviours. Everybody wants to be somebody, everybody wants to fall in
love and be free and live in a perfect world where nothing ever goes wrong and
so they join charities or donate to charities or campaign to get a better
leader elected to stand at the head of a system that won't facilitate the
changes they and their leaders all want, and it's all so conformist. Hate
everything politicians stand for? Support a different one! Want to fall in
love? Socialise among people looking for people to love and one will turn up
eventually! It isn't fate that brought you together, Dany wants to scream, it's
a simple case of probability! Want to be different? Adopt an unusual persona.
Is this what she's done? she wonders. Is she just normal?
Sometimes, she wonders if she is incapable of emotion not because of genetics
but because of how she grew up. It was a harsh world, always harshest to her,
with a brother who was mad and no money and always moving house from cheap
place to cheaper place. Did she fail to learn how to feel then, in her years of
initial development? Or was it her teenage years that made her who she is
today, years of watching the cruelty of the world and suffering it at the hands
of a surprisingly caring husband who her brother had arranged for her to marry,
and who was the first person she'd known who was not already family that she'd
grown to love?
Sometimes, she thinks that things had seemed brighter with Drogo, but he had
died and left her better off than before - there was a manageable income for
her in his will. Is love the cure? Does she need to learn to love again, to
fill this gap in herself where emotions should be? It is a gap that has been
left empty for too long.
Sometimes, she can feel the gap. When she looks at crowds at festivals, or
concerts, or parties, and sees the joy on their faces and the happiness and the
socialising and she feels it not. It's like her mind, rather than having some
indeterminable space within it where emotions should have been, is half-empty
almost permanently, as if there are levels of pleasure beyond simply not
irritated which remain permanently locked to her no matter how far in the game
that is life she progresses.
(The space could not possibly be half-full, as optimism is a trait of the
happy, and though Daenerys is many things, including a loner with no name and
no social life, a "weirdo with a weird name," and "that girl who had a
miscarriage," she is not a happy person.)
Often, when studying History and Politics in the University of the Crownlands,
she finds herself identifying with certain historical figures. Not the ones who
were famous for building great castles or doing great deeds for love, like
Durran Godsgrief of the legends, not the rulers who were kind and just, like
Jaehaerys the Conciliator, who gave the realm peace. Daenerys identifies with
the ambitious, cunning minds, unrestrained by emotion, of cooler temperaments,
or at least, those who seem that way, such as Tywin Lannister over the course
of the last few years, or Aegon the Conqueror. Stannis Baratheon had been cut
from the same cloth, but led astray and tricked by some Essosi peddler of
drugs, who'd made him feel incredible and indomitable and made him lose track
of what made him who he was.
Always, Daenerys stays away from drugs like they were contagious. There are
other things that can make her feel a certain level of pride; excellence in her
studies most often, or the exploits of one of her less-troubled ancestors.
Drugs would change her, she fears, and while she might be the only one to do so
she likes who she is.
Sometimes, she wonders if there is a hope of ever bridging the gap. It would
take something unquestionably important to her, more so than Drogo and more so
than her dead child, as neither of them proved enough. But then, could
anything? She is utterly convinced that she simply cannot feel such intense
realms of passion as such a bridge would require.
Naturally, fate intervenes to tear down her assumption in the most blasé manner
possible.
===============================================================================
She is walking down a street, minding her own business and glancing over all
the boring people around her, when a cat bolts out of an alleyway and up a
small tree to her left. The tree is no sapling, though it is not taller than
the buildings that surround it, but the branches begin about arm's length above
Dany's head. The cat is arching its back, fur on end, and a girl bursts out of
the alleyway after it, glancing about wildly. She meets Dany's eyes, and Dany
glances up the tree at the cat, which shoots her an infuriated stare. She
glares back at it, realising all of a sudden that she's stopped in the middle
of the street to have a staring contest with a feline and turning away with
disdain, almost crashing into the girl, who is young, and shorter than even
Dany, and has short, wild black hair and a pale face.
"Leg up?" the girl asks.
Dany takes a while to digest this. "You've been chasing a cat down an alley
through gods know what kind of muck and you expect me to put my clean hands
together so you can step on them?"
She expects a whine, a "Be cool, dude!" or some such pathetic plea, but the
youngster's reply is direct and to the point. "Fuck you, then." She turns,
tries to scramble up the trunk, and fails. She snarls, tries again, and her
feet slip and she's on her arse on the ground next to Dany, who's just realised
that she's still standing there in shock and that she could be halfway down the
street by now, never mind the fact that she wasn't going anywhere particularly
anyway. She grits her teeth, resigns herself to her interest in seeing the saga
of the cat and the girl reach an end, and extends a hand to the girl on the
floor, who pushes herself up without.
It's an entirely predictable reaction given the girl's attitude so far, but
Dany still feels slighted. The girl is halfway up the trunk again when Daenerys
realises that somehow she's become invested in this issue. She's irrationally
disappointed in the fact that the girl has rejected her unspoken apology and
the possibility of further assistance which came with it, and she's still in
exactly the same fucking place, staring, as the cat climbs higher and the girl
remains near-stationary.
Sighing with impatience, Dany steps forwards, places both hands on the girl's
firm rear, and pushes. There is a squeak of surprise, but the shorter girl has
grabbed a branch and hauled herself onto it. Ten seconds later, she's got both
arms well scratched but wrapped firmly around the cat and has jumped to the
floor and released it.
"And what exactly was the point of that?" Danaerys is practically infuriated;
the cheek of the girl, wasting her time chasing a cat only to let it go again!
"I wanted to catch the cat," the girl snaps.
"And why did you want to catch the cat?"
"To prove that I could do it."
"Why exactly did you want to do it?"
The girl rolls her eyes, exasperated, before grinning mischievously. "I've
heard that "doing it" can be fun. Want to find out with me?"
"I know what "Do-" shit," Dany mumbles the last word, as if that compensates
for practically shouting the first section.
"Not with me you don't," the girl smirked. She steps closer, plants a slim
finger on Dany's collarbone, and smirks, leaning in. Dany is spellbound - no,
she is shocked because of this girl's forwardness, not spellbound because she's
entranced by her utter self-confidence. "I'm Arya Stark," the girl says, as if
it means something. "And I catch things on the streets of King's Landing for
thrills. You're on the street, you're fair game, and if you complain that I'm
stalking you I've got you on harassment of a minor - myself. You grabbed my
arse." Arya's hand slips to the back of Dany's neck and the other joins it
there. "But I think I may let you off for that, just between us," she says,
tilting her head as she considers, eyes flickering all over Dany's face.
"You're beautiful as fuck," she growls, and pulls Dany's face to hers with
remarkable strength.
Their kiss is feirce, but Dany is no longer motionless, and she kisses back
just as hard as the younger girl is for a few seconds before catching Arya's
bottom lip in her teeth and pulling back, hard, meeting her eyes with
unquenchable fury before letting go and standing tall and straight, looming
over the other girl by a good head's height. Arya bites her own bottom lip, as
if to show that she can do it too, before lowering her chin and staring
intensely at Dany's boobs. Dany's eyes narrow.
"Don't!"
"Why not? That top's very low-cut for someone who doesn't want people to look.
Or do you think it's unfair? Do you want to see mine too?"
"I doubt you have any," Dany remarks snidely, as if she hasn't noticed them
(and she has, and they're small but pert and surely perfectly formed and
they're covered only by the top's thin fabric), because if she doesn't snap
back then she'll kiss the brat herself to shut her up.
"Oh, I assure you," Stark says, stepping closer, neck emerging from between
Dany's breasts as her shoulders press against their undersides and two hard
nipples press into Dany's ribs. "I certainly have some." Dany feels a hand
slide in between the girl's breast and her own skin; it slides upwards to the
tune of Arya's mouth whispering soft words: "And I think you do too." Dany's
breath catches as her breast is lifted gently from Arya Stark's shoulder, but
the breath is immediately released in a gasp as the soft flesh is suddenly
squeezed and Dany jerks back.
Chaos erupts briefly as an accusatory cry comes from the side. Arya turns, a
snarl on her face, eyes flashing, before turning on her heels and sprinting, a
Goldcloak close behind. Another is by Dany's side, telling her that it's
alright, that she's alright, and asking her to describe the assaulter, while
taking notes in a notebook that Dany can read over his shoulder as she pretends
to cry. The words say teenage boy and sexual assault and short dark hair and
skinny, and when he asks her what happened she says that it's a blur and it
happened so fast and she repeats his writings back at him and he nods and
addsvictim confirms to his list.
The other goldcloak returns, they take her name and details, and tell her that
the culprit got away and she doesn't know why she hasn't given them the girl's
- Arya's - name, but she knows that in the kiss and caress of this girl she has
felt alive for the first time since Drogo.
===============================================================================
She tells herself that she only searches for the girl's name in the phone book
out of curiosity, to find out whether there truly is such a person or the name
she gave was fake. When she discovers no sign of the name she breathes a sigh,
of relief, she tells herself, before she realises that the girl who called
herself Arya is too young to be in the phone book, and her heart jumps in a
manner she can't quite explain away so easily.
===============================================================================
She is more attentive to her surroundings over the course of the next month,
but not once does she spot as much as a flash of that dark hair. Not that she
wants to, of course; she's simply being wary. She hates being accosted in the
street by strangers. She doesn't think of Arya as a stranger, but that's not
the point; whatever Dany wants to think, the fact is that she doesn't know the
girl at all, and that is how things will stay.
===============================================================================
Fate spits in the face of Daenerys' plans yet again.
===============================================================================
A month after the incident, Dany is in a lecture and overhears a snippet of
conversation from a row in front; "... tell us, Miss Stark, what it is that so
endears me to you?" Dany immediately snaps to attention, casting her eyes over
the entire room until she finds the source and the subject of the conversation,
sitting side-by-side. Neither are the girl Dany has metand obsessed over
ever since, but since one is called Stark, (she recognises the other as
Tyrell,) she resolves to talk to the red-haired girl.
Once the lecture is over, Dany means to follow her, but both girls go to speak
to the professor but Dany has no questions and so she loiters by the door. But
they exit through a side-door and she has to rush outside to catch up with them
and she spots them heading for the car park. She is about to break into a
sprint when they open the door of a Manticore and she is too far away to catch
up on foot. A split-second decision sees her rush to the nearby bike-park,
where her beautiful silver Dothraki from Drogo awaits, and she's got it started
in record time.
She follows the car at a respectful distance as it winds through the roads
towards Visenya's Hill, where the car stops and Dany does too. The red-haired
girl - Stark - gets out, kisses Tyrell gently on the lips, and heads into a
large, detached house. Dany remains as Tyrell drives off, pondering love,
loss, and desperation for minutes on end.
===============================================================================
Her contemplation ends when she feels a hard pinch to her rear through her
brown leather trousers. She whirls, feeling her hair fan out behind her (and at
that moment realising that she has left both her bag and her helmet in the
lecture theatre) to find Arya Stark standing there with a devilish grin on her
face that Dany wants to hate but can't bring herself to.
"Creep." Such is the first word out of the other girl's mouth, but Dany will
not retaliate; she has been picturing their interactions for weeks now and has
decided not to rise to barbs; she goes on the offensive instead.
"So you gave me your real name after all... and now I know where you live. The
Goldcloaks already believe you sexually assaulted me; I could have you taken in
in an instant. I have leverage over you; I'm calling it in."
Arya scowls, as if realising that her actions have consequences. "What do you
want from me?"
Dany smirks. "Oh, not much... Just your number and a date."
A grin springs to Arya's face.
===============================================================================
The next day they meet up, at this little café run by a friend of Arya's in the
city centre. It's small, perhaps quaint is the word, but it's between their
homes and they can both reach it easily. Arya's personality seems to fill the
room. Arya talks about her family, herself, her life, her taste in music, and
everything under the sun while the owner, who tells everyone to call him Hot
Pie, is in the room, but in his absence Arya turns the topic to Dany. However,
when it becomes clear that Dany is not entirely willing to discuss her past and
has said almost all she can on her present, her date for the day (week month
year decadecentury FOREVER) chooses instead to wax lyrical about how pretty
Dany is and why shelikes her and how she'd love to be sitting next to Dany
rather than across from her so she couldfinger her under the table and watch
her writhe.
Dany grins and bears it because she hasn't been this wet in forever and she
loves the way this little minx is all talk, and she says so, but she's soon
eating her words when Arya slips into the seat next to her in the booth like
she belongs there and slips her hand down Dany's skirt like it's been there all
her life. Arya's nimble fingers have brought her to the edge in less than a
minute, all five teasing and playing with her clit and her slit and then the
littlest one sliding in as far as it would go and Dany is almost twitching
and about to come when she hears Hot Pie's voice from across the table saying
"Oh, you've moved" to Arya and her eyes jerk open.
"Well, you know," Arya tells him, "We are moving pretty fast, I guess." The
word "fast" is marked by a rapid thrusting of the little finger, still within
Dany. Arya glances at Dany's face with a sly grin and says, "It helps that we
have the capacity to be so open," withdrawing the finger and spreading Dany's
lips as wide as she can, before looking back to Hot Pie with the phrase "We're
in a really good place in our relationship at the moment, wouldn't you agree
Dany?" And Dany nods vigorously, because Arya has pinched her clit three times
in time with the wordsreally good place and she is coming very very hard
indeed. Nothing has felt this good for as long as she can remember.
She faintly hears Hot Pie ask them if they'd like some more biscuits and Arya
turns to her and says "What do you want, Daenerys? More?"
Dany orders, as imperiously as she can, "More," because though she's full, her
reply means that when Hot Pie leaves Arya leans in and kisses her as she
thrusts two fingers deep and it feels excellent.
Dany has never been fucked in such a public fashion before, and has only been
with one other girl, but Irri, with her smooth techniques and practiced
caresses, is nothing like Arya, whose relentless and rough nature is simple
honesty and lust in its purest form. Dany appreciates this greatly… But perhaps
not so much when the girl in question is bringing her to orgasm in a cafeteria
for the third successive time. Whilst she’s gritting her teeth and trying not
to scream, (which is ridiculously hard considering the fact that Arya has
decided that Dany’s juices have lubricated her little finger enough to massage
her prostate as well as fingerfucking her and rubbing her clit all at the same
time and dear gods it feels excellent,) Dany decides that she will have to get
revenge on this insufferably attractive and reckless girl as soon as she can.
She achieves some of her revenge (which she will assign to the first of the
three orgasms) on her Dothraki, when she repeatedly breaks the speed limit to a
ridiculous extent and takes several corners far too fast, and while Arya
doesn’t scream, the clenching of her arms around Dany’s stomach is a very good
indication that the fifteen-year-old is absolutely terrified. Strike One, Dany
thinks.
The second revenge comes later. They spend the afternoon at Dany’s apartment,
getting to know one another, watching a bit of TV, and generally lazing about.
At about six, Dany excuses herself to go to the toilet and plan her next move.
When she returns, naked, she finds Arya in the same state on her leather sofa,
gazing about absently and playing with a nipple, head against the armrest, feet
just reaching the other, beautiful smooth legs crossed at the ankle.
“Great minds think alike,” Dany smiles, and there’s a short period of genuine
humour and appreciation in both their eyes before they shift to lust and a
different kind of appreciation. A second later, Dany is pouncing on Arya,
straddling her stomach and looking down. “It turns out that you do have breasts
after all,” she remarks, reaching down to them and stroking the soft flesh with
both her hands.
“As if you didn’t feel them the day we met,” Arya snorts, reaching up to Dany’s
larger tits with the words “but I only felt one of yours…” She licks her lips
suggestively and Dany feels a rush of desire to simply let Arya do her thing,
but she controls herself and pushes her girlfriend’s hands away.
“My turn,” she says, leaning forwards to kiss the younger girl gently. She
shifts back after a minute of gentleness and follows it up with licks from
Arya’s nipples to her throat, one hard peak after the next. Arya’s head is
tossed back, throat exposed, and Dany keeps kissing her there while shifting
her position as best she can. Arya’s eyes are closed and her moans are loud,
particularly when Dany’s knees begin to caress her breasts as Dany moves up to
her lips again.
Then Dany jerks her hips forwards and leans back, one hand grasping the back of
the sofa, one woven into Arya’s hair, her knees either side of her torso and
her cunt above Arya’s chin, in fact, pressing enthusiastically into said chin.
“I don’t care what you think of me while I do this,” Dany tells her, “and I
don’t care what you do while I do it either. But I am going to grind myself to
orgasm on your face and if you want this relationship to continue you won’t
even think of trying to stop me. Got it?”
Arya raises a thin eyebrow in response, and Dany is worried for a second, but
then the girl underneath her drawls, “Get on with it, then, I can’t be here all
day,” and Dany is fucking ecstatic and it shows itself in an immense smile
which soon transforms itself into a kind of evil grin as she starts to move,
first pressing her opening to Arya’s chin before rubbing her slit as a whole
along then other girl’s neck and humping that general region. Then, she starts
rubbing herself off against Arya’s face in general; be it her cheek, nose, or
jaw, Dany is dominant and in control; she uses her grasp on Arya’s head to help
herself along, and when she looks downwards to see her lover’s face contorted
with glee, staring at Dany’s bouncing tits and fucking herself to the sight,
it’s enough to get her off there and then, and she rubs her clit on Arya’s
forehead a couple of times anyway as she does so before simply hovering over
her face and absolutely soaking it with her juices as Arya, eyes wide open,
takes in the sight. Strike Two.
Dany comes down from her high to find Arya close to achieving her own, hips
undulating in time with her fingers, breasts jiggling, and the joy of orgasm
almost on her face already. Dany watches for a second, climbs off the young
girl who’s so enraptured she barely even notices, takes an index finger into
her mouth, wipes it on her soaking cunt for good measure, and thrusts it
without warning into the other girl’s arsehole. Arya screams as she comes, the
first time Dany’s witnessed her orgasm, and it’s beautiful; from the ever-
pretty face covered in Dany’s own juices to the manic writhing of her hips and
the way Dany can feel her clench around her finger.
Strike Three, thinks Dany. Revenge is complete.But it isn’t just Dany’s search
for vengeance that feels completed in that moment. It’s very rare that Dany
feels completely, unreservedly happy. But she does now, a fifteen-year-old’s
anus squeezing her tightly, still reliving the aftermath of her own orgasm, and
for a second – just a second – it is as if the gap is filled – not to the brim,
but almost there.
It soon fades, though, and Dany finds herself missing the sensation. However,
when she looks back into Arya’s eyes it springs into being again, and at the
sight of her enraptured smile Dany’s heart leaps. Perhaps now she can stop
searching.
But before she contemplates the matter more, Arya’s hand shoots out and grasps
Dany’s hair, pulling her between her legs with great enthusiasm. Dany has to
adjust her body to the angle, and ends up kneeling on the sofa, arse in the air
and face pressed into Arya’s vulva. She pulls away for a second, and says, “You
realise that I shall have my revenge for this indignity, too?” to which Arya
laughs.
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy this one just as much as the last three,” she replies, and
smothers Dany’s reply between her muscular thighs. But Dany only teases,
playing gently, using her fingers every now and then, rather than using the
enthusiasm which her lover surely desired, if her impatient moans were anything
to go by. But Dany is stubborn, and will not conform, and Arya is stubborn, and
will not beg, and together their stubbornness means that Dany brings Arya
almost to the brink before withdrawing, licking her lips and tasting her
lover's cum, three times in fifteen minutes.
Eventually, Arya snarls, pulls Dany up to face her, and kisses her fiercely,
tasting her own juices in the process. "You can kiss me how I like it here, now
kiss my cunt the same way," she instructs, intensely.
"What's the magic word?"
"Oh, don't become my sister!"
"Your sister's hot," Dany jokes.
"Not as hot as you, and twice as bossy," Arya replies, kissing Dany gently.
"... Please?"
Arya looks so vulnerable, for a second, and Dany's heart swells. She kisses
Arya again, kisses a trail down her body, sucks both tits, and, finally,
between Arya's legs with the girl screaming and coming and coming and screaming
again above her, she finds within herself a swelling of happiness and
contentment and love, and it more than bridges every gap she's ever felt, and
for a moment that feels like it could last forever Daenerys is truly human,
whole and unblemished and joyous, emotional, and, more than anything, happy.
She feels better than she's ever been, and the night is only just beginning.
End Notes
     Inspired by All My Life, by the Foo Fighters, in particular by the
     line "All my life I've been searching for something," the idea in my
     head that this something could be another person, an emotion, or a
     feeling, and the fact that it is technically a song about giving oral
     sex to a woman, which I certainly intended to write a passage on when
     I started this.
     It seems there are always unexpected character developments in my
     writings nowadays. There was the twist in Shadowcats on FF.net, there
     was Perceptive!Ygritte, and now there's Sociopathic!Dany. In this
     case, I had a choice; I could portray her character as either fire or
     ice. For all her association with fire, I felt something different
     was needed; and All My Life doesn't exactly lend itself to a
     destructive perspective quite as well as it does a distant one; at
     least before the chorus kicks in. The idea that Dany is distant with
     the world but brought to true emotional heights through love and
     attachment is in my mind a compelling one; One could argue that even
     in canon her passion for her people derives from both the bond of
     "Mhysa!" they develop, and the connection through this bond to the
     attachment she retains to Rhaego, and, through him, Drogo... I think
     this will become a new fanon of mine.
     Love, Loss, and Desperation is a reference, if anyone spotted it... A
     REFERENCE TO A BAND I'VE SEEN TWICE IN THE PAST SEVEN DAYS AND I'M
     STILL HOARSE FROM ALL THE CHEERING! (FOR THE RECORD, TODAY IS
     SATURDAY AND I SAW THEM ON THURSDAY NIGHT AND THE SUNDAY NIGHT BEFORE
     THAT.) They were absolutely awesome both nights. Just thought I'd put
     that out there.
     I think that's all, really. Hope you liked it!
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