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Chapter Text

The dreams starts like this, she's in the forest one that looks familiar but she knows she couldn't have ever been there. She's seven years old with a just to big very furry cloak on which is weird because Highever never got cold enough to justify such a a heavy cloak and she didn't leave once before the age of nine. The other queer aspect was a boy two or so years younger than her with reddish hair and a blurry face like she can't focus on it. She can't even tell his eye color, only his bright hair.

They stand opposite to each other eating and stuffing berries into their mouths and pockets. The berries are sweat, tart, and full of juice. They dye our hands purple, but they're to absorbed in the taste they don't care for the consequences from their mother.

Her mother? Eleanor Cousland? She had no younger siblings she herself was a miracle in itself to be born to aging woman and she did not escape consequences of it. She spent most of her years before seven bedbound and to sick and feeble to be announced to the court in fear she would drop dead in front of them. She didn't even remmerber those years not that it would help anything.

So the boy couldn't be her brother but why did she feel like he was? The dream of eating berries together in childhood bliss never lasted and without warning she was running. She felt terrified and she could hear the pounding of loud and heavy foot steps of men racing after her. She does not see her brother and can only he got away.

She the takes the same shap turn she always does and hides in thick bundles of bushes and trees in the shadows she keeps her hands clapsed over her mouth as she tries to get her breathing under control. The men are looking for her in trees and shadows far away from her hidden spot. She is safe.

She keeps the men in veiw making sure they don't try to come near her they look everywhere in that clearing convinced something is there. For a reason she doesn't know she searches the trees and their high branches for red hair.

Her brother is in a tree. He is as high as he can get but the tree has few branches and no leaves to hide him and red hair is as obvious as mud caked on her black boots.
She cannot see his face but she knows he is beyond terrified he's shaking and almost hyperventilating. The tree shakes slightly and he will be seen.

So she runs away. She runs past the men they spot her immediately and they all follow her not one staying behind to focused on their prey. She leads them away from her brother still trapped in a tree. Her relief does not last while the men continue to chase her.

And she is all to aware she cannot run forever. She makes sharp turns and bends around trees faster than she can see but she is exhausted and it shows. She suddenly loses her footing and rolls down a steep cliff her head hating a hard rock as she came to a stop at the bottom. Most of the men fall in after or scramble down the sides to ber. She lifts an incredibly sore arm to her head and feels the large wet and painful spot there. She brings her fingers back down and they are covered in blood.

The men circle her. Even the ones who fell got up on uneasy feet. They would feel that tumble for days. Good.

Then she wakes up.

She is now longer seven but a women grown and married at six and ten. Her first view being of the open window letting in the sunlight. There is a slight breeze ever so sending ripples in the curtains. The bed she lays in is soft and luxurious the wooden beams and supports are painted and carved in exquisite details. Fit for a king.

Her husbands hand are wrapped around her holding tight but not suffocating. She turns around leaving the sheets behind. It's warm enough in the say to not worry about them with her evening shift. She faces her husband. His hair is short and golden blonde and while his eyes are closed she knows them intimately to be a shifting hazel. He has a small scar on his lower lip and a myriad of scars across his bare stomach.

"Alistair?" She whispers in a teasing manner with her finger gently placing a longer defiant piece of hair back into it place. He groans and grumbles and shifts around more into the bed dragging her in with him.

While any other day she would be happy to relax in bed just a few more minutes, but today...

The day they would leave for Winterfell.

When Jon first showed up claiming she was his long lost sister she'd believed him mad. He'd showed up as a petitioner to the King and Queen and tried to convince them. He just seemed too calm and collected to be insane so to disprove him kindly she had summoned Fergus. In her letter she told him of the ill man and his search for his poor sister and asked him to help him move on by bringing her records. She was sick for most of her early childhood she must have had several physicians and healers sign of on her.

What she hadn't expected him to bring was a chest on the smaller side proving him right. And with a document proving she was adopted legally and given the cousland name signed by the reverend mother at the time. She gingerly rose her fingers to the wolf pendent clasped on her neck he'd given her. It had the sigil of the Stark House the iron wolf with a snarling mouth she had been given as a child. The chain was newer the older one had been much to small for a grown adult to wear but it was in a similar style. She thumbed her fingers on it in deep thought. She always got so nostalgic after that particular dream.

She has had it so many times ever since she was young, but she hadn't understood it until recently when she had asked Jon about it and he had told her Bran's story. The boy in her dream, her brother. Who had jumped down a tree to run back to Winterfell to warn them about the bandits chasing her.

He had blue eyes. The strange boy who laid heavily on her mind for years. She knew his name and his eye color yet when she visits that dream again and again, his face is blurry and she can't remember anything she's learned from Jon.

Alistsir let out a loud groan and turned away from the sun. He had become accustomed to sleeping in, the spoiled king. She rolled her eyes and rose out of bed shrugging off the soft covers of the bed.

She had already laid out her rising outfit. A dress with slight slots in the side and pants underneath. There were embellished with the cousland family sigil she had sewed them herself painstakingly. She wasn't the best sewer you'd ever see but it couldn't be said she didn't know how. She had fought at first with her mother but she had sat her down and explained why sewing was important. For sewing wounds and mending rips in clothing and adding the symbol of your house to your clothing yourself was something to take pride in. She herself had sewn incricate vines, leaves, and wreathes along it to show she was still a cousland even if she was to visit her blood family.

She had learned to sew slowly but her mother was an excellent teacher. Patient, wise, and gentle she knew when she could do better and when she needed a break. When she grew better with sewing her mother had presented her with a beautifully crafted bow. With her family sigil carved in it. The teryna was a master at the bow and taught her all her tricks. She picked up on that faster than the sewing.

She slipped her night slip off and dressed loudly. Knocking into chairs and hitting things wildly for support. For no reason in particular especially not to wake up the sleeping beauty. Her husband grumbled as he shoved the covers off and went to grumpily put on his preprepared clothes.

"It's too early for this!" The man whined it a very unkingly manner. She paid no attention to his whining she had grown used to his morning attitude and knew he would forget all about his early rising once he had breakfast.

Speaking of breakfast they had planned to meet around this time in the small family meal room.

She laced up her last boot and stomped them to check the flexibility and comfort. Judging then good enough she turned to her vanity and grabbed the scented cream off it applying to her face and hands. Looking in the mirror she judged herself presentable enough for a queen about to embark on a long and perilous journey. She grabbed her most comfortable circlet, silver and shaped in an almost wreath fashion that came to point on her temple with beautiful light sapphire. Alistair told her it brought out the blue from her grey eyes. She grabbed her scabbard and belt it looked it over the dress across her waist tightening it in place she rested her hand on her sword, Asturian's Might, to check if it would slide. It was harder wearing a sword belt with dresses but she was warrior even if she had to be queen.

"Are you ready, dear?" She shouted after she found a comfortable place on her head. He rushed forward with his boot laces wilding slapping the floor behind him, "almost.." he yawned breaking of the last part of the word as he laced his boots up quickly.

She took great joy in saying "If only you got up earlier you wouldn't have to rush around." She grabbed a pin from their jewelry box and used it to clapse his shirt closed.

"Why do you insist on kicking me when I'm down, my love?" She could never resist those puppy eyes so she took his head in her hands and kissed him deeply.

"I thought we were rushing." Alistsair said after they broke apart in an indignant tone so she ignored him and grabbed his arm to pull him up.
"Let's just go, husband." Ignoring his tone she linked their arms and strode out into the hall. They nodded to the two guards who stood outside and walking quickly but calmly to the meal room.

"Are you nervous?" He asked her suddenly serious. "To break my fast?", she asked hoping to throw him off his questioning.

"To go home-"

"I am home. Home is with you. With Eamon and Isolde and Jon. And Wynne. And even Zevran and Oghren when they're not being idiots. Home is here." She argued suddenly feeling frustrated.

"Hey-" Alistair pulled her to the side making her face him. He had his concerned face.
The face he makes when something is bothering him. She hates when he looks at her like that.

"I'm not saying this isn't your home. You can have more than one home. I'll always think of Redcliffe as home even if it wasn't i home when I left. Are you telling me you don't think fondly of Highever?" Alistair explained it was a question but he already knew the answer. She didn't bother arguing with that, "But Winterfell, westeros, I know nothing that Jon does not know. They have different customs than ours. Their women aren't allowed to train with swords. They cannot become knights or warriors. Depending on the family even archery is forbidden. They can only sew and sit and produce heirs while there husbands are off in brothels!" Her voice growing louder the longer she trails on her frustration growing.

"That is not unheard of happening here."

"But it is not expected."

"Not everyone has a love match and that can be fine. Jon told me your parents had a arranged marriage but thatbthye grew to love eachother."

"You are right. It is not all bad."

"You say that very reluctantly." He teased a a soft smile out of her.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" She teased back invading his space. She placed her hands over his shoulders with one hand on his head and the other splayed. His hands came to rest on her hips, "I'm not sure...I might need a little reminder." "Is that so?" She kissed him deeply as he returned it with fervor. He pushed her into the wall gently parting briefly to find a more comfortable position onitsha before continuing their passionate tryst.

"ARYA! ALISTSAIR! Have some decency!" Arl Eamons voice surprised them apart as if they are two unmarried lovers caught by her father. Their embarrassment only growing when Zevran sticks his head out to smirk knowingly at them.

----

Afterward, their meal continued uneventful. Eamon continued to glare for catching them. Isolde smiled sweetly at them, she had tried her best to apologize to Alistair for his childhood and she tried her best to support them both. Zevran was content to smirk smuggly everytime she glanced in her direction and Arya was beginning to think he had something to do with Eamon noticing them. Oghren chuckled everytime Alistair blushed at their reactions. Wynne smiled softly in support in her direction but she could tell the elder had a hint of mischief and humor in her eyes. Even Snow, her trusted war hound, seemed to find it funny. The dog was too smart for his own good. Jon seemed unsure. Ghost, Jon's large direwol lazed behind his chair waiting for his scraps.

Jon and her have gotten close in the short months since he got here, soon after her wedding but before her six and tenth nameday. He had became a fixture in the palace since Fergus had left.

She and him were still fighting when he had left. He had lied to her for years about being her blood. He had admitted that he had convinced their-because even though they weren't her blood they still raised her even Fergus-parents that they needed to take her in. He told her he had found her wandering around the outskirts of the forest while hunting near Highever. She had been bleeding from the head, disorientated and couldn't focus on anything, she had twigs and leaves in her hair and bruises and cuts everywhere, and she was wet too. He had picked her up and rode all the way home as hard and fast as he could. The physician and castle mage were able to save her but when he awoke she had called him her brother and Fergus couldn't let her go back to wherever she was injured so badly. So he had pleaded with his parents to let her stay and they had reluctantly agreed but on the condition they search for her family. As time went on they had become more and more fond of her and couldn't remember the castle without the girl underfoot, so they called the search off and introduced her as Arya Cousland. Her parents being busy individuals and reluctant to bond with her at first she had bonded heavily with Fergus and he quickly came to call her little sister.

Arya didn't want to fight with Fergus but she was confused and hurt from all the lies and she had lashed out. She hadn't meant to hurt him but she knew she did so she avoided him. She loved him but he had lied to her for most of he life and it wasn't an easy thing to forgive. She was lucky Alistair had understood she hadn't known about her real parentage and didn't care about it. She was even luckier for Fergus bringing the papers of her adoption.

Arl Eamons loud clearing of his throut broght her back to the present. He started, "all preparations are prepared and the ship is ready to sail straight to Braavos. Where you will exchange currency and then sail for White Harbor where you will stay for one night then you will buy six horses and head down the Kings road straight for Winterfell. Does everyone remember the plan?" He repated for what must be the hundredth time.

"I think, dream, and breath the 'plan'." Zevran joked bored. Oghren laughed heavily and either ignored or didn't see Eamons scandalized look of disbelief.

"I believe we understand, Eamon." Alistair placated leveling Oghren with a 'be quiet or else' look.

"Of course." Eamon agreed unmoved. The others repeated their understandings and soon they were heading toward the docks of Denerim.

---
The ships captain was a very serious native fereldan who barely bothered to show amy inkling he knew they were royals as soon as they left the harbor. His name was Bryon and his ship was called the 'Dream Chaser' because he often took adventurers with him on their journeys. Not that he called it that or admitted to be soft-hearted to people chasing their dreams. It was named by the people he often took with him. His rough attitude and poor manners onky helped them. They weren't planning on shouting to all of Essos and Westeros they were King and Queen of a barely known foreign kingdom. Thedas was known mostly to port cities or trade heavy regions and of course lord paramounts. It would have been in their lessons on foreign nations but minor houses probably wouldn't teach on them. The Manderlys and the Lannisters would have heard of them but House Frey of the Riverlands wouldn't have any clue. Jon had gave her quite a few lessons on westeros. Including the great houses and recent events. Such as the earlier rebellion led by their Father, King Robert Baratheon, and Jon's namesake the Lord hand Jon Arryn. He had made sure to tell her plenty of the Riverlands as her mother came from there and it would be disrespectful to not know her mothers family lands.

Thedas has always tried it's best to keep knowledge of the darkspawn from Westeros. Essos was full of magic and some essosi even came to visit and see the blight and traded with the refugees. But westeros wasn't known for its magic few practiced it and most had lost all traces of magic in their blood, but according to Avernus there was a ritual she and Alistair could perform that would guarantee a babe.

Once when she visited soldier's peak right before she married Alistair he had came to her and told her of a way for them to have a child. She didn't understand the mechanics of it she's never had the mind to understand more than the basics of magic. He told her the basics of the ritual blood of your enemy, place of grest magic, and other strange things. She had told him she would think on it and left. Then later he came to her when they first started discussing visiting Winterfell with a vial of blood preserved from Anora's death.

Queen Anora or after they dethroned her Lady Anora had lived in the tower for a many moons after she was imprisoned until some of the nobles that supported Loghain still tried to use her as a puppet and tool against them. They had stormed her tower and tried to kidnap her somewhere in the struggle she was thrown from the window. Miraculously she had survived. They had the other nobles executed or imprisoned but most had lost their vigor after realizing what
the they had done. Anora was gravely injured and in great pain. Wynne and several other mages tried to heal her when the physicians failed but she still laid dying. Her outside was whole but she bled internally. A cruel and agonizing slow death. She had asked her personally to put an end to her misery. After her death Avernus collected her blood and preserved it for an experiment she tried to admonish him but he seemed to have an idea he wouldn't lose. Like a dog with a bone he refused to listen to her or anyone else on the morals of stealing her blood but she was dead and the blood was collected after her death and she wasn't killed as a martyr from his experiments so she didn't really have a leg to stand on morality. When Arl Eamon learned of the ritual he supported their journey fully. Now that reconstruction and rebuilding all of Fereldon wad mostly complete a year after the war people were beginning to talk about heirs. They needed one and quickly. The only living child with the Theirin blood was Morrigan's. And the only people to know about the babe was the three of them.

All she knew about the ritual was that in the Godswood there was a great weirwood tree where she and Alistair would stand before and smear blood and sap from the tree on eachother while chanting some words they'd practiced heavily with Avernus and then do as married people do covered in blood and sap. Luckily they didn't have to do it infront of the tree. According to Jon it had eyes. Disturbing.

"The captain says we will dock in Braavos on the morrow." Alistair told her when she left their cabin that morning. "Wynne told me she'd prefer to look around at the market place here than go to the Iron Bank. Jon told me he's been here before so he knows the way." He sighed and leaned against the railings where she watched the waves. Oghren has had sea sickness since he got here. The captain told them it was normal 'some aren't built for it theres no reason to be mad 'bout it' he told him when she was trying to get him to drink the ginger elixir Wynne made to calm his stomach. It had helped him somehwta to not throw his guts everywhere but oghren was more than happy to stay in his cabin where he didn't have to see the sea. Even Snow and Ghost were having a better time. Snow enjoyed the sea rockingfor some odd reason and she typically sunbathed on the dock. While Ghost wasn't as content as him the wolf was only slightly unerved at the rocking and was only slightly more nervous around people than he already was. He was a great and friendly wolf to his friends and especially Jon but the wolf wasn't the most approachable of his siblings. According to Jon, Lady was well behaved even for a puppy. Lady was Sansas and she in Jon's words 'a true southerner'. What ever that meant.

"I will go check with Oghren then. I'm sure he will want to leave the ship for as long as he can but I'm not sure if he will want to explore with Wynne or us." She emphasized the double meaning with her eye brows to her husband. They all knew about Oghren's fancy. While wynne seemed to think he was making fun of her everytime he tried to suggest anything. They knew better to interfere with anything with either of then less they draw their ire.
"Ooh mischievous aren't you, my love?" He teaded her, "perhaps, I was thinking while I am with them you can mayhaps do me a favor?" She asked trying to convey the importance even in a lighthearted tone.

"Your wish is my command." He joked, "i want you to take the lead." He looked confused but stayed silent, " I have been thinking on it and we discussed trying not to attract attention. A woman leading three men around here? It would attract question."

"That's...a good point but I'm not good at leading."

"You are better than you know. I trust you." Arya stepped up and placed a kiss on his cheek and walked away.

----

Jon's description of the Titan of Braavos could never portray the breathtaking view of it. Even in the light fog of the morning it was extraordinary. She's seen great things and visited sought out historical places but they were ruins. Temples of lost days weathered by time and mostly forgotten. But this...was well taken are of and the craftsmanship and dedication was unheard of.

Alistair, Jon, Oghren, Zevran, Wynne and her all got off and walked to the market place together.

"Ahh it's reminds me so much of Antiva! Just with less slaves." Zevran announced dramatically smelling the air around them. His hair was styled in just a way to hide the sharpness of his ears.

"It's one of the only actually free city. It was founded by refugees fleeing from Old Valyria." Jon explained some of the history of essos.

"Such history..." Wynne said softly looking around in wonder.

"Anything is better than that damn ship." Oghren complained loudly he had recovered fast the effects of his sickness and was soaking up all the land. Arya was only slightly surprised he didn't immediately kiss the ground.

"I heard it has one of the most infamous order of assasins in the world." Alistair remarked reminded them of the danger that lurked around the corner.

"I belive this is where we part ways for now. We'll meet up in the market near the docks for the afternoon meal." Jon took out his purse full of iron coins and passed out a few to each of them. Wynne thanked him and said her goodbyes and walked away with a trailing Oghren and a gentle nudge and command she sent Snow with them aswell. The people around then gave them curious looks. Apparently the dwarves that lived in these parts of the world are a result of lineages mixing strangely and not an entire race of their own. Jon had told her about the infamous 'imp of the west'. Westerosi and their names. She sighed and bumped Alistairs shoulder to remind him he was leading them and they set off again.

Jon led them through the crowds too easily for someone who just visited a few times. Ghost at his heels. She glanced at him but he was facing forward and didn't look in her direction. Hmm.

When they arrived at the iron bank they spoke to several people trying to find out where they can trade. After much back and forth and Jon translating as best he could they finally were able to find someone to help them. They led them to a smaller private room which a few chairs and tables mostly decorative ones.

Belaro Soraan was an older braavosi man who could speak the common tongue with a heavy accent. He had the kind of eyes of a man who's lived a long life, but the smile of a man who is content in it.

"Now how can we serve you?"

"An exchange if you may. Zevran?" Alistair gestured to the man. Zevran had been chosen because he would notice if someone tried pickpocketing him. A learned lesson to let the theif carry things with such obvious value. He placed the large box he was carrying on the table near the man and stepped back again to keep his watch. He typically watched their backs. Who better to watch for assasins than an assasin?

Belaro opened the box and if he was surprised at the amount he didn't show it he hummed and "it has been quite a while since we've exchanged currency from Thedas. "

"It is a long journey." Alistair remarked. She could tell from his right foot twitching he was getting nervous. The man looked it over and nodded "Yes we can exchange this completely today with a small fee taken for us, of course."

"Of course."

"Excuse me." He said and left the small room. Alistair awkwardly shifted from foot to foot.

"They are simply verifying the authenticity. Accepting false currency would be a bad look for them."

"It's a bad look for anyone." He pointed out. Arya petted Ghost on the head from her spot next him and Jon. The wolf leaned his large weight against her slightly in want for more pets. She scratched under his chin as the large wolf's leg bounced in appreciation. "I'm pretty sure he likes you more than me."

"Only when he wants pets. He knows you have the tasty treats and I know you let him sleep with you on your bed. "

"How do you know about that?"

"The maids have had to add twice the amount of plank to your bed supports underneath because they keep breaking." He looked surprised and opened his mouth to apologize but she waved him off, "I had them replace them with metal after the second time and they've held since."

"I wasn't aware at all." Jon admitted and laughed slightly. Arya joined in and they laughed until Alistair turned around in confusing which just made them laugh harder. By the time Balero came back they had quieted down.

"Here. You may count it if you want it is all there." Alistair took his offer up and quickly calculated it to reach the amount Arya and Jon had converted it to reach in gold dragons and silver stars. With the small fee subtracted, of course.

"Looks like it's all here." The man smiled and gestured toward the door for them.

When they reached the market place they had all gotten quite hungry so they decided to head in the direction with the best smell. There they ran into Oghren and wynne with the same problem.

"Come on, woman. Just choose a stall and let's eat." Oghren pleaded frustrated and agitated. "There's too many choices!" Wynne complained loudly in equal frustration. Snow sat in between them head tilting in confusion and looking back and forth between them.

"I'd ask them how it's going but the answer seems pretty obvious." Alistair remarked, "How about we all choose a stall or two and grab some food and share with eachother?" Jon suggested to them.

"That sounds like an excellent idea to me. That stall over there smells very familiar to me..." Zevran's eyes narrowed and left in the direction he pointed in. After him everyone else fell suit and split up.

"Come on, boy..." She and the mabari strolled through the stalls. Arya noticed most of them in this section had food, but some of them had other trinkets or keepsakes.

One of these such stalls caught her eye. It was mostly jewelry and decorative pieces. What caught her eye was a beautiful wolf pin. The pin bore a striking similarity to the Stark sigil Jon had once drawn for her. There were other animal jewelery that she thought were quite pretty. She didn't usually wear much jewelery daily. A circlet usually and her crown on days were they held court or other festivities. Her wedding band of course and usually her Stark necklace now a days. She had her wedding band on and the necklace was tucked into the inside of her dress but she had obviously left her circlet behind hidden in her things and her crown she had left in Denerim.

"Beatiful things are they not?" The stallowner encouraged in an even thicker accent and sounded more like tongues but she coukd recognize just enough. She picked out the Stark look alike pin and after a quick barter she handed over two coins and stuffed the pin into an inside pocket of her dress. She scratched the top of snow and walked back to the food stalls.

"Do you see anything interesting, snow?" The dog barked excitedly and led get a few feet away to a stall that sold flavorful meat vegetable skewers. She bought one with all meat scraps for Snow and three chicken and vegetable skewers for her and the others. They each costed a coin a little expensive and with her previous purchase she now had two coins left from her allowance from Jon. Atleast they were leaving tonight.

She handed Snow his skewer and told him to wait. The dog whined but obeyed easily and followed her back to the place they all agreed on meeting. It was a small alcove with low stone 'seats' where the wals had crumbled away and fell into disuse. They weren't the most comfortable but they'd spent almost a year sleeping on dirt and rocks.

"I thought we'd have to go after you." Alistair commented when she sat down next him. Arya kissed him gently in response and greeting. She told Snow she could eat his. She checked for ghost just in case he got jealous but the dire wolf was munching on an entire leg of lamb or goat possibly at Jon's feet. He smiled at her and offered some of his rice and fish which she took a small bite of. He took a vegetable and a chicken piece of one skewer. Zevran joyfully snatched the rest of the skewer put of her hand and offered her a steaming sugary pastry.

"Antivan Apple grenades! Theyre filled with apple. Fun fact they are designed after the antivan crows fire grenades. They are good yes?" Zevran excitedly explained, "they are very good actually." Arya reached up to swipe off the sugar that stuck to her face.

"Where did you find them?"

"Some antivan merchants daughter was selling them while her father was docked here. She had quite a lot of antivan food to sell. I recognized the pleasant aroma of the apples. One of my favorites treats!"

"They are quite delicious."

"Arya! Come try this wine. It's delicious better than anything I've had!" Oghren bousterously shouted over from his place on the floor.
"You say that about every wine or ale you try." Wynne replied annoyed. Oghren ignored her and handed Arya the bottle, she broke the skewer in half with her fingers and handed them each a half. Oghren took it in fervor and wynne gave her a small thank you and a glare in his direction. She only had one skewer left. She lifted the bottle to her lips and drank a deep drink. It was...exhilarating! The wine had a strong first taste full of citrus and spices. She couldn't really put a name to the spices but it was full of them. It's strong acidic taste served to bring out the spices to their full potential. It had to be the best wine she'd ever tried before.

"Oh we are buying a crate of that before we leave!" Oghren laughed heartily and took back his bottle. Wynne now had a slightly thoughtful face on.
She walked back to her spot near Alistair and sat down. She offered her skewer to him and he took a large bite off of a few of it in dramatic barbarian scene. One piece fell to the ground and snow eagerly pounced on it. Her snd Alistair shared a small laugh over it. She ate the skewer in a peaceful silence. Alistair had some kind of fish and clam stew with some grains mixed in. It was light reddish brown in color and smelled of smoked fish.

"After this we should head back to the ship, we are leaving when the sun goes down." Alistair informed the others, "you know on our way back we should stop here again." Zevran suggested, "i fully agree. We need to pack as many crates of this spiced wine as we can!" Oghren slammed his hand on his bottle in emphasis. Beside him wynne sighed and Zevran smirked at them. Alistair let out a small chuckle. Arya couldn't help but smile at them. She was very grateful for her friends. Especially the ones who stayed to help her and Alistair when they didn't have to. Zevran could have traveled the world but he stayed. Wynne could ahead returned to the Circle to rebuild but she stayed. Oghren finally had closure with Branka's fate and could have been went back to Orzammer yet he stayed. Alistair didn't have to marry her but he did. She pulled her gaze back to him.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed. Her turned to her with a questioning look, but she just shook her head. She placed her head on his shoulder. In just a few weeks she'd see her family again.

Chapter Text

The day started off like any other. His oldest son turned one and twenty today and tonight they were planning a nameday celebration. It was a busy day for the entire castle they had all been rushing around to prepare for his vassels to arrive. A great celebration for his boy officially becoming a man. Ned sighed snd resisted the urge to rub his temple. He would have to announced betrothal for him to one of the daughters of the north. Cat wants southern matches for all of their children but he knew that Robb would have to be northern even if the others have southern matches. Though really it would only be wise to marry one of their children in the south. The other houses would outrage if they passed over all of them.

The north had accepted Catelyn as their lady because of the impending war and they needed alliances but in peacetime they needed to make sure they keep the loyalty of their vassal houses strong. When he first became Lord of Winterfell many of them thought him too southern, but he proved them wrong in the battles to come.

They said marriage was a battle and it certainly had its moments. He had thought the hardest part of his marriage would be the day he brought Jon home. He sighed again. Jon.

He hasn't heard anymore about Jon since he left Braavos for a final time last year. When Jon turned six and ten he had overheard him talking to Robb about joining the Nights watch but when he tried to talk him out of it the next day he got angry and left to White Harbour and then left for Essos soon after.

He hadn't wanted to upset him more by sending men to retrieve him. He had thought Jon would come back on his own. It's why when Lord Wyman sent a raven asking if he wanted Ned to detain him Ned had told him no and Jon disappeared three years after that after living in and out of Braavos. He only knows he lived mostly in Braavos was because he sent letters back with the nights watch ships which Benjen would send to him. Most of them were short and only held enough to let him know he was still alive and to not come for him. Until they stopped.

Jon and him hadn't been seeing eye to eye for several years before that. After...Arya. When she died it divided the entire north. Some blamed the Ironborn, some the wildlings and some even suspected Targaryen loyalists. Catelyn blamed herself for not watching them closely enough. Robb, Jon, and Theon searched for days but they only found bloody pieces of her dress at the bottom of a rocky hill. Blood littered it from where she must have fallen and rolled down. Even more blood on one rock at the bottom where she must have hit her head open. No one could survive that amount of blood loss especially a little girl. They had never found her body. Mostly likely dragged off by some animal. His little girl. Did she call out for him? Hoping for her father to save her? For her mother? Bran was scarred on the side of his face when he fell out of the tree he hid in. Bran had told them Arya called the bandits away from him giving him time to escape. She was so brave. So much like Lyanna and just as dead as her.

He hadn't realized he started crying until his direwolf nudged his hand. He had went on a ride alone in the wolfswood for some air some years ago. When the wolf had walked up to him heavily pregnant and with hunger in its eyes. He had thought the wolf would kill him and he had been ready for it but the wolf was too tired and just sat down in front of him. He supposed they had the same idea. Tired of life and loking for a way out. Hes not sure whay made him hunt a deer for her and he doubts she knows why she followed him home. All the way back to Winterfell. Catelyn was furious. He named her Lyarra after his mother and the children soon bonded with her pups. There were six of them. Robb had named the largest one at birth Grey Wind, Jon named the albino runt Ghost, Sansa named the lightest one Lady, little Rickon named the black one Shaggydog, and Bran named the light brown one Summer. There was one left that remained nameless. They called it Wolf and the children all liked to spend time with her but she never took after them as much as the others. They all had very different personalities. Almost similar to their chosen companions. Catelyn had told him Lyarra was just like him quiet with old eyes.

"Thank you, girl." He scratched beteeen the large wolf's ear where he knee she liked it. Lyarra flicked her tail at him in what he guess must be a 'you're welcome'.

"Ned! There you are. I've looking for you for hours!" His lady wife complained when he finally went to the great hall. "What is it Cat?"

"I can't find Bran again." He sighed, "i will go look for him." With her reassured he set back off to the godswood. Bran often spent his time hiding in one of the trees there. When ever they couldn't find him you would have to walk in circles to find the tree his wolf sat at. This time he just stood infront of the weirwood tree with his back to him. Summer sat up and cheerfully greeted his mother.

"Bran? Your mother is looking for you." He turned around so fast Ned winced at the force.

"Father! I have great news!" The boy exclaimed and smiled brightly at him. His scar stretching uncomfortablely. "What news is that, sweet boy?"

"It's a suprise. Robb will be overjoyed! Everyone will actually." Bran explained seeming like he changed his mind at the last second. He resisted the urge to sigh. Bran had changed that day. He stayed in the godswood for as long as he could even skipping lessons with Maester Luwin or Ser Rodrick. He skipped meals with the family and didn't talk to anyone. Not that they were much of an occasion. After Arya, things were different for a long time and they still are differnet. He is ashamed to admit it but after Aryas death he fell completely apart for a long time. He slacked in his duties as a husband, father and a lord. It wasn't until Jon had gotten so angry one day that he was doing nothing but whining about it when their lives were fading away. It had gotten through to him no matter how angry it had made his wife.

He finally saw how much he placed on Robb, Jon, and Cat while they were also greiving. It had scared him how much of his life Bran was letting escape him. He had tried to reach him by pleading or even demanding but nothing got through to him.

He wasn't sure how it happened but one day Bran just decided to rejoin their family. It was a few moons after Arya's death when he suddenly started attending his lesson and the family as if nothing happened. He still spent time in the godswood whenever he wasn't at lessons or with the family.

"All right then, how about we go see what your lady mother wants?" When they reached the great hall it was time for their afternoon meal. It would be smaller to allow the kitchen to focus on the grand feast tonight. They had to leave in the middle of the meal to welcome several of their vassals who traveled together. They welcomed the Lady Mormant and her three oldest daughters Dacey, Alysane, and Lyra.

Several other lords and their children arrived. Daughters with their heads held high or low in tow, but their was only three real choices for Robb. Lord Karstark arrived with his two younger sons and his only daughter Alys. Alys Karstark would be a good match for Robb if not for her long standing betrothal to Lord Daryn Hornwood. But if their liege lord insisted they would be happy to break it even if it angered the Hornwoods. They would blame the Starks and he didn't need anymore grudges against him.

While a potential match with the Mormants could ease tension with the embarrassment of the former Lords actions and cowardice. Her daughter Lyra was of the right age only slightly younger than Robb. While Dacey was closer to his own age and Alysane was still quite a few years Robb's senior. The even younger ones were of course too young to be considered.

Another option would be one of Lord Wyman Manderly's granddaughters. Ladies Wynafryd and Wylla were both good choices depending on the circumstances tonight. But they were also followers of the Seven which could be seen as trying to have away with the old gods. Especially because he had built a sept for Cat and allowed her to teach their children the way of the Seven.

Still either Lyra Mormant, Alys Karstark Wynafryd or Wylla Manderly would be good choices for the next Lady of Winterfell. He would talk to Catelyn and inform her of his thoughts before dinner.

He would also make sure Robb pays special attention to them to see if any of them catch his eye.

They exchanged pleasantries and welcomes but not anything worth mentioning. No need to bring up their daughters were being shoved in Robbs face when he greeted them as respectful as the heir was expected to be.

By the time dinner came around House Manderly was still absent. A lone rider had gone ahead to inform them of a set back and was seated at a table with the rest of the men. He hoped the setback wasn't a grand entrance it would truly be just what he needed right now.

When dinner was mostly finished and alcohol was being freely given to everyone was when they were finally informed that the Manderly party had reached the gate.

He gathered his family quickly to welcome them as soon as possible. It was also an excuse to send his younger children to bed. Robb and Sansa were old enough to stay up for a while longer but Bran would be getting restless soon. Theon had dissapeared sometime earlier with one of the serving girls no doubt and Cat had sent Rickon to bed after he launched stew at Sansa.

Lord Wyman Manderly rode or rather the Lord-Too-Fat-To-Sit-A-Horse was pulled in a sled by two horses. One of his son behind him on his horse and his granddaughters behind their father riding side saddle. He noticed a few horsemen in dark cloaks and hoods without any sigil he could see.

"Lord Stark, I apologize for my tardiness but I've brought great gifts apologize." Wyman said excitedly before Ned could question him, Wolf ran past him and jumped on a poor rider who had just dismounted.

"Wolf! Get back! Do not fire!" He yelled at the men atop the gate who notched arrows seeing the commotion below. The rabid wolf attacked the fallen rider in...kisses? His or rather her as it looked when her hood had fallen back and he could now see she was a young girl. His startled confusion turned to pure shock when he saw Jon's white wolf Ghost who disappeared with him pounce and knock Wolf away from the girl. Quickly the other cloak wearers descended on the girl and covered his view of her.

"Jon!" He heard Robb scream and tackle a man to the ground. He ran to their side to check and it was his son! His second born and the first babe he held in his arms so fragile and breakable with only trust in his heart.

"Hello Robb, hello father." Jon said unsure of his position on the floor being assessed by his older brother and father.

"Oh Jon, Jon, I can't believe it-" he gripped him tightly in his arms hauling him to his feet. "You're really here..." he whispered to himself more than Jon. Had this knowing look in his eye like he knew more and it confused him even more.

"Where have you been? You dissapeared off the face of the world!" Robb now had moved in from his relief and joy in seeing Jon to his anger for leaving.

"There's someone else I think you should meet. "Jon gestured behind him and he came dace to face with Lyanna once more.

"Arya...? Oh gods but-your'e-your're dead!" He could hear Robbs disbelief and shock in his voice. It was like the world slowed down. His little girl was alive? She was standing just a few feet away. Her hair was pulled into a long and loose braid pulled to the front. She had the same dark cloak the others had. Her eyes were his steel grey and they were glossy with tears.

"I was-rescued and taken to a distant land where I have lived since. Jon found me and brought me back." She explained though it was obvious she was leaving something out. Before he could question her further his wife and other daughter had realized who they were talking to.

"Oh my daughter! By the old gods and the new!" Catelyn sprinted over very unladylike and threw her arms around their daughter. Sansa seemed much more hesitant and maintained a slow ladylike speed as she walked over unsure. Ned finally shook out of his stupor and embraced her as well.

Robb pulled Sansa with him when he joined their group hug. When they finally parted he realized Bran had came to stand with them with a knowing and happy look on his face. Was this the suprise? How did he know?

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there i should have protected you..." Catelyn spoke in such a gentle voice as if she spoke too loud Arya would fade into the clouds. "It wasn't your fault. I never should have snuck off." She turned to Bran, "i never should have dragged you there." But he shook his head at her "i should have told you no. It was my fault." She smiled softly at him but it was clear his words didn't move her.

Catelyn walked up to a surprised Jon lingering at the edge of their group. "Thank you. Thank you for bringing her home." Jon looked shocked at her words but before he could say anything she turned back around. It was then that he noticed the other cloaked figures had come up behind them and had taken their hoods off. He must not have paid enough attention because one of the was a dwarf. The dwarf had even redder hair than his wife and a braided beard. He could see glints of armor beneath his cloak. A dwarf warrior?

He noticed there was another woman in the group. He noted she was strangly tall standing equal to his own height. She was older than him with completely white hair. She smiled at them and looked like she had tears in her eyes. He noticed she carried a large metal...club on her back? The shorter man to her left had longer blonde hair that contrasted with his dark skin. He had several braids on the side covering his ears. He had markings on his face on the left. It looked like curved lines tracing from the top of his eyebrow to the bottom of his jaw. He had a curious and thoughtful expression on his face as he took in the scene and area around him. Ned noticed the man strangly kept his swords on his back even though they didn't look that heavy or long to be on a belt. The man standing beside him also had blonde hair but shorter in length but much taller than the other. He was taller than Ned and was probably only slightly shorter Robert. He had a wary expression on his face and his hand rested on his pommel.

Noticing his staring Arya introduced them, "May i introduce you to my companions. Wynne," the older lady nodded her head " my lords, my ladies." Arya smiled snd continued "Ohgren," the man grunted a greeting and earned a shove by Lady Wynne. Ser Oghren then turned and started arguing with her. Arya moved on quicky and ignored the two bickering, "Zevran," the man bowed slightly and greeted them much the same as Lady Wynne did. "Finally Ser Alistair," Ned noticed he was the only one to have a title but what really drew his note was the look of love he gave Arya when she looked at him. It had distracted him before he greeted them politely. He would have to keep his eye on the man.

"And you already know Jon." Arya joked causing Jon to smile.

"Thank you, for returning my daughter home. I can never repay you all enough." Ned thanked them gratefully.

"You must be weary after your long journey. Please follow me I'll show you to your rooms." Catelyn announced suddenly remembering her duties as a host. Everyone but Jon and him trailed after her. Bran and Sansa said their good nights quietly and left for their rooms. He would have to speak with both of them later. He still couldn't belive Bran predicted the future. Could the green dreams he's heard about all his life really exist?

"Where's Rickon?"

"Threw stew at Sansa."

"Again?" Ned laughed overjoyed at such a simple word. Jon hadn't joked with him since before Arya-went missing. He missed the little moments before everything fell apart. Sitting with him in the godswood when the other children were with Cat in the Sept. Watching him help Arya and Bran evade their mother to run off to play.

"I should have believed you." Ned admitted, but Jon shook his head "you couldn't have known. I was irrational and only lucky I was right."

"I should have searched harder." He looked around but most of his people had left the courtyard to give the family space. "Gods-we never even found her body..." Ned admitted to no one at all.

"It's been a long day. Good night father." Jon left him behind and he was once again alone.

----

"How long do they need?" Jon resisted the urge to nervously fidget. Arya and Alistair had gone into the godswood as soon as the sun went down and the sky was down completely black save for the bright full moon and the stars.

"Why did we have to guard them? Ohgren is the one who made Arya mad earlier. Why is she torturing us?" Zevran complained loudly. Arya had heavily chastised Ohgren for disrespecting their family as soon as Lady Stark had left. He understood why Arya was mad westeros wasn't anything like Fereldan or Orzammer if he wasn't careful he could lose his tongue or even his life. Lady Stark had led them to the family quarters and gave each of them their own room to stay in. With the expectation they were temporary and only honorary for helping her daughter back. Arya hadn't left the nursery yet when she left so she needed a new room. Jon already had his own even though he hadn't been back in several years. He was grateful for that he assumed Lady Stark would have taken it for Bran but instead it stayed the same. Exactly the same as when he left.

He must have been distracted because Arya and Alistair almost snuck up behind them. They had their cloaks on again with the hoods up and their heads down. Who knows what they might look like underneath it. After a brief check in, Jon led them back to the family quarters.

Zevran had the first one at the door with Wynnes across from him. Ohgren was next to him and Alistairs across from his but they weren't the kind of married couple to sleep in a separate room so he joined Arya in her room. Aryas room was further in next to Sansas as Lady Stark said she saved it for her incase she ever came back. Jon's was even further ahead closer to lord Stark near the heirs room.

"The wall are quite thick and the water in the pipes makes it harder to tell where sounds are coming from. Just a fact." He pointed out distantly and didn't stick around for their reaction he just went inside his room to get much needed sleep. It had been a year since he had to sleep in a tent at a camp, so he was pretty out of practice. He sighed and shook off his outer layers an put on a lighter pair of pants from his pack he dropped off earlier. He placed his dagger underneath his pillow. He'd learned to never go to bed unprepared. Ghost had been playing with his siblings since he got back he'd guess he would be sleeping in the wolfswood tonight. Satisfied at his preparations he climbed into bed and let sleep take him.

----

"Lady Arya! My lady it is well past time to wake up!" A woman yelled and banged outside her door. Alistair groaned and grabbed a pillow to put over his ears.

"I am up! I will be out soon." She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice but she was exhausted. They had all had such long days yesterday. If Avernus was right...she couldn't think about it now she had to join the realm of the living apparently. For the makers sake it wasn't even light out yet! She got out of bed and slipped on a robe.

"My lady-" the woman started again but Arya whipped open the door and cut her off. "Is there a reason you are banging on my door when it isn't even morning yet?" The woman-or Septa Mordane- if Jon was correct used to handle her lessons when she was a child. Jon told her even at seven namedays she gave the septa quite a few chases. And apparently she still held a grudge.

Arya had surprised the septa and she gaped for a second before recovering "I am here early to make sure you dress appropriately and as a highborn lady should. I saw what you wore yesterday and I must let you know that will be the last time you wear such a thing." What she wore yesterday? Her riding outfit? Made for maneuverbility and comfortable with long rides? Was she seriously reprimanding her for that?

"That was my riding outfit. I have more appropriate dresses with me. Now if you will excuse me-" Arya tried to close the door but the septa stopped it, "you have sewing lessons after the morning meal if you do not remember your way your sister will lead you there. Do not think you can skip them anymore you are no longer a child." Before she could even respond to the insult the septa pulled her door closed from the outside. What kind of person closes a door like that? She shook off the strange encounter and sat down on the bed.

"Maker that woman is insufferable." Alistair groaned from underneath his pillow. "Sewing lessons? I learned to sew when I was a child. How old does she think I am?" She crossed her arms not in a child like way at all, "Seven, I'd say." Arya chuckled slightly at his slight and rose from the bed once more. She walked around and pulled the pillow off his head to a concerned face on her husband.

"Did the ritual work?" His eyes glanced down to her stomach. "I'm not sure. I suppose i wouldn't immediately know." She rested a hand on her stomach warily. "From what Eamon told me before I left it might take a few weeks to take." He sat up and pulled her carefully onto his lap. "We shouldn't worry. We must trust in the Maker now i suppose." Arya smirked and retorted "since when have you been so religious?"

"Since I married a woman so beautiful the maker himself had to sculpt you."

She snorted and lightly slapped his head, "Flirt." He kissed her deeply in return, "tonight, we must get ready for the day now." She promised and rose from his lap.

He sighed and followed in her example. It was starting to get brighter outside. She picked out a lighter blue dress with white embellishments. The embellishments she had done herself but they were more for experimental decorations she had liked the design of enough to replicate it more on the dress.

It was one of the ones Jon had designed and had it made in preparation. Alistair picked out a heavier cotton outfit he had before Jon had thought would be good for the cold weather. Arya had previously embroidered mabari hounds and leaves on the chest and sleeves respectfully representing their union.

When they left their room finally they ran into her sister. She was a bit further ahead so she had to raise her voice to call her "Sansa! Can I walk with you?" She stood confused for a second before greeting her.

"Arya? I wasn't expecting you to wake up so early? With such a long day yesterday." "I wasn't planning too but Septa Mordane insisted upon it." Sansa rolled her eyes at the mention of the septa then she must have realized what she did, "excuse me, please that was wrong of me. Shall we walk together then?" Sansa stretched her arm out and Arya gladly took it linking their arms together.

"Your dress is beautiful. The collar with the flowers has exceptional work."

"I made it myself but yours is even more beautiful...did you sew it yourself?"

"Well partly," she gestured to the designs, " I embroidered the designs." Sasa seemed surprised and then told her, "you never liked sewing. You liked to 'escape' lessons to watch the boys in the training yard. Mother and Septa Mordane always tried to make you into a proper lady."

"The teryna-the lord paramounts are called teryns and their wives terynas-promised me she would teach me archery if i learned." Sansa laughed, "of course that's the only reason you would learn to sew. Oh the septas head would explode if you told her that!" They shared a laugh together over that. Sansa reminded her of Orianna.

It hurt thinking of her good-sister and her nephew. He had been so young and they had run his little body through with a sword. Orianna had been like a sister to her since she married Fergus. She would have been with the Couslands for a year at most at the time they married.

Sansa must have noticed her shift in attitude and questioned her but she waved her off and they walked in a quiet silence afterwards. When they reached the great hall Arya noticed her friends were sitting at a lower table so she left Sansa to continue on alone. She noticed there were quite a few tables more than she'd expect and most were placed closer to the high table than one would expect. Most of the people seated at them bore arms with sigils she recognized from Jon's many lessons on the north. Snow must have been with Jon because he came bounding to her from that direction.

"Hey boy!" She pet and rubbed the excited hound.

"How are you doing today?" Wynne asked her when she got close enough. She would have to join her family later so she just stood infront of the table end. Luckily they got seats right at the end so it wasn't uncomfortable. She absent mindedly rubbed Snow's chin.

"I don't feel any different." She admitted. "That is to be expected. I never felt any difference for a while and the difference i felt was the morning sickness. It follows you the whole day..." wynne encouraged her with a gentle rub on her arm.

"I know a special recipe that helps with nausea. Makes it go away like it never happened. Poof." Zevran punctuated his sentence with a 'poof' motion with his hands.

"Yes, yes and what deadly poisons pray tell does that contain?" Her husband inquired sarcastically.

"Only three and they're fairly weak ones. Not even usually fatal. If you're careful." Alistair mocked 'if you're careful' back at him.

"My mother would splurge on the expensive beer or wine when she felt nauseous." Oghren informed them much to no one's disbelief.

"I will brew you a ginger tea to help with the nausea if it gets bad." Wynne promised with a pointed look at Zevran. Zevran wilted but recovered quickly afterwards.

They talked briefly about their accommodations but soon a servant holding an empty pitcher came up to her.

"Lady Arya? Lady Stark is requesting you." The girl said with a bow of her head and a small tilt of her head in the direction of the high table. When she followed the direction she nodded in she saw her Lady mother was staring at her with a look she couldn't decipher.

"Thank you for telling me." The girl bowed her head deeply and excused herself.

"Looks like my time is up. I have sewing with the other ladies after this. Wynne will you go with me, please?" Wynne agreed and Arya walked up to the high table. Snow following dutifully.

"Lord father, Lady mother. It is a beautiful morning is it not?" Once again suprise laced their faces. What was with all this suprise and disbelief. Jon wasn't surprised and smiled at her. Snow licked her hand and sat down at the floor of the only empty seat.

"I suppose it is a pretty morning..." her mother trailed off watching her hound. Her father nodded his head and pulled her mother back into the conversation.

"I didn't notice the dog yesterday." Robb stated to noone in particular. "Snow? He was exploring the area. He's actually surprisingly stealthy."

"He seems very intelligent and strong too." Arya smiled and started grabbing a some food from the platters when she got an idea.

"Want to see him do a trick?" Noticing her mischievous smile and Jon's sigh at her question Robb grew curious and nodded.

"After sewing I'll show you." She promised and Jon sighed in relief.

"Are you really Arya?" The boy next to Robb asked. That must be Theon. Robb immediately turned to reprimand him "Theon!" He immediately grew defensive "I'm just saying we don't have any proof that she is Arya! We all thought she was dead and there's been fakes before." He pointed out and Robb paused and had a dubious look on his face. Whilst Jon looked angry.

"What should I do to convince you?" But before he could answer they were interupted by a shout from Maester Luwin.

"Lord Stark! You must see this immedialty." He pratically shoved what looked like a raven's scroll into a startled Ned Stark's hands. He read it and immediately his face dropped.

"Ned? what does it say?" Her mother asked him confused but her father just handed her the scroll. Father placed his head into his hand and leaned on it. Her mother read it and gasped.

"Oh Ned! I'm so sorry." She placed a supportive hand on his shoulder and leaned her head into his head. Arya looked aroud the hall and noticed everyone's attention on the great table.

"Mother? What does it say?" Robb asked her other siblings murmuring agreements. Maester Luwin looked for approval from their lord father and was granted it with a nod of his head.

"The lord hand Jon Arryn has died. The king rides for Winterfell." Sansa gasped loudly. The other lords must have heard him because the entire hall interupted into murmuring and loud whispering.

----

Over the next few weeks the lords of the north were steadily pushed out of Winterfell to make room for the king's party.

Arya stood above the training yard watching as Bran tried to shoot arrows and missed. He had a strange way of standing that must have made it awkward to shoot straight. Was that stance taught to him?

She strolled down into the yard and came up behind him. Alistair waved at her while he was sparing with Robb and she returned it just in time to see her brother land a blow on him. Ouch.

"Arya, good to see you. Please ignore my shooting, I'm terrible at it." He admitted with a dejected expression on his face.

"Your stance certainly doesn't help." At his now confused stare at her she reached for his bow. He let her have it and stepped back.

"You stand like you are shooting to the sky. Like you are shooting at an army and with that comes the advantage of not needing to aim anywhere particular. Only direction and how far it can fly matters." She explained showing his stance and shooting an arrow that went astray.

"When shooting a precise target you need complete control of your bow." She maneuvered herself slowly so he could study her as she orientated into the correct position.

"Now like this..." she focused and notched an arrow. She lined the shot up and drew it back letting it fly toward the target...hitting it square in the center of the black dot.

"See?" Bran nodded his head astonished and accepted the bow back. He copied her stance with her direction. He notched an arrow and Arya stabilized it. He let the arrow go...hitting the target but off center.

"Good. It takes a long time to be skilled enough to hit it dead in everytime."

"That's the closest I've ever been to hitting the middle. Thank you for your help, Arya." He sounded grateful. She was about to answer him when she heard clapping from above. She looked up to see her father smiling and clapping at them.

"Good job Bran! You're an excellent teacher Arya. I didn't know you were so well versed in archey that well." He praised them both with a smile on his face but with interest in his voice.

"I learned from one of the best archers in all of the region." She told him but before he could question her further she was overcome with the feeling she was about to lose her stomach. She ran to the side of the fence just a bit away and just as she reached it she vomited over the side of it. She felt bad for the person that would have to clean this up.

"Someone get maester Luwin!" She heard her father shout while she was heaving. Her brother grabbed a bucket from somewhere and guided her to a seat. She still felt nauseated but not like she was going to lose her stomach again.

Arya was escorted to the maesters chamber with her father and brothers help. He pushed them out and gave her a drink that smelled heavily of ginger. He helped her take a few sips and then watched as she drank on her own.

It was after she drank the entire drink when he started asking questions.

"You don't have a fever. You are slightly pale but not terribly. Do you feel dizzy?"

"Not terribly so." He poured a glass of water. She drank sips from it.

"Have you been feeling nauseous recently?" He asked with suspicion in his voice. She sighed and nodded her head.

"How long have you known?" The maester asked reluctantly. "A few weeks now." She saw no reason to lie anymore. "I need to inform Lord Stark," she nodded but he continued, "before I do. Can I assume the sire is one of the men that journied with you?" She nodded again confused. "Will you want to be present for the conversation?" She nodded her head and he went to the door. Was she really such a bad child they weren't sure the father of her child would be her husband?

When the maester let her father in he immediately sat down in the chairs beside the bed. He took her hand in his, "are you alright? How are you feeling?" He asked concerned.

"Not as nauseated anymore."

"Good." He gave her a reassuring smile before turned his attention to the maester. "What's wrong with her then?" He sighed, 'the lady arya...is with child." Her father was stunned for a second "who?" She told them Alistair and her are married? Right?

They had been staying in the same room for weeks and Al had never stepped foot into the room he was given permission to use. He must be aware of them if not her then one of the others had to have said something to someone. She needed to clear this up before things got out of hand.

"Alistair but-"

"I'm going to kill him." His voice filled with cold rage. He jumped out of the chair before she could explain he was out the door. This was what she hoped wouldn't happen. Makers breath how could she let this get this out of control?

"Lady Arya!" The maester shouted in suprise when she lept from the bed.

"Please lay back down!" He shouted after her as she ran out the door after her father. She almost ran directly into her frazzled mother.

"Arya!" She shouted in surprise as she barely avoided knocking both of them over. She ran on past her not caring to recover from the almost catastrophe. She knew exactly where he was heading. She should be faster than him at her more springy age yet he had the advantage of his intricate knowledge of the keep. She had been here for weeks but he'd lived her for decades.

"FATHER!" She screamed as soon as she finally reached the courtyard. Luckily her father had just barely reached it ahead of her. Alistair, Robb, Jon, and Theon were standing together on the other side of the courtyard. They were laughing together and all had swords in their hands. At her scream they all turned to face her surprised.

Her father walked calmly up to them in long strides. She hurried after him trying to catch up with them but her dress hindered her. She tried to pull her dress up with her hands as she ran but it was tiring and heavy.

She now completely understood her younger self. The light dresses she wore in Highever and Denerim were never this heavy and restrictive. They were often flowing and loose. In Highever she enjoyed wearing dresses. They were a welcome reprease from the humid and hot air that occasionally flew in from the south. It was often breezy on the coast where her family resided.

"Father? Arya?" Robb asked confused and looked back and forth. Alistair had a wary facial expression as he watched Lord Stark walk up to him then punched him right square in the face sending him to the floor. Then started to pummeling his face in.

"I welcome you into my home," Jon and Robb attempt to pull him off of him "AND YOU PAY ME BACK BY DISHONORING MY DAUGHTER!" She heard several shocked gasps from the crowd starting to form around the courtyard. Robb face grew conflicted and went slack he stepped away leading Jon to keep pulling on him alone.

She finally got close enough to attempt to try to pull him back as well. Robb must have made up his mind because he joined back with them and they pulled their still struggling father off of her husband. Theon came up behind them and took her place restraining him and she ran to Alistair. Kneeling beside him. His nose was bloody and crooked and bruises were starting to form. Luckily he had armor on from sparring with the other boys so the damage was mostly there. His lip was split and he looked at her with shock. She supported his weight and helped him to his feet.

They would have to crack his nose back in place. Zevran and Wynne must have heard the commotion because they suddenly showed up and helped her support him.

"Let me go!" Her father struggled against his captors, finally shrugging them off sending Robb to the floor and he fell sideways on his arm with a sickening crack.

"ROBB!" Her Lady mother screamed suddenly appearing in the chaos next to his side. Lord Stark's face fell, "Robb I-" her mother snapped her head to him "Do you not see you have done enough?" She sharply reprimanded him. He opened and closed his mouth like he wanted to say something but didn't know what to say. Jon helped Robb up and he hobbled away with them. She saw his face as he passed her. He looked like he was in shock. His face was confused and conflicted like he both knew and didn't know what happened.

Zevran looked at her with a pained expression. They turned back around to help Al get to the maesters chambers when she realized.

"He's my husband." She murmured. Lord Stark whipped his head back to her from where he was staring at the floor. "What?"

"We married in Fereldon. I thought it was obvious. I didn't think to say it." she turned and continued helping Alistair limp away. His head lulled on her shoulder.

Several of the servants tried their best not to be seen gawking or whispering but she knew they were behind their backs.

Zevran opened the door for them and then looked at her with a silent question. She shook her head and he swayed unsure for a second before dismissing himself. She could support him from here. Wynne walked in behind them.

When Luwin saw them he sighed and signaled for her to say him down on the bed near where Robb was sitting uo another bed. When she set him down she noticed he was glancing between the two of them. "Is it true? What he said about you two?" She nodded her head and lifted her finger to show her ring. He just seemed more confused.

"In Fereldon rings are exchanged symbolically for the bride and groom. I suppose like the maiden cloak and the man's house cloak." Jon elaborated for them both. She should have thought more about the differences. They had different gods of course marriages are completely different.

"I should have thought to explain marriages more to you. This could have been avoided if i had. " Jon pointed out with a disappointed shake of his head.

"No, I should have questioned these things more. If only I had asked more precise questions or introduced him as my husband."

"I should have seen this coming. Arya was always defiant. I should have realized bow close you two were. I should have stopped Ned when he ran out the door instead i was too focused on the suprise." Catelyn admitted.

"Mother-" Robb started before Wynne interupted him, "I am sorry to interupt, but blame gets us no where. We can continue to find hundreds of faults or we can work to fix this instead of wallowing in self pity. Excuse me." Wynne finished her speech with a pointed look in her direction. She sighed. Her speech reminded her of their conversation so long ago in the fade. When she found her with the bodys of her students.

"The lady is right. House Stark must stand united in these trying times." The older maester voiced his agreement. Then the old man started to see to his patients. He was already seeing to Robb before so quickly finished him first but before he could Wynne sneaked over and cast a healing spell when they were distracted. Jon and Arya acting as her shields.

She made sure to cast a less effective one because of the large audience seeing Lord Stark pummeling his face in they couldn't just say he wasn't injured. But who's to say it wasn't exaggerated? He groaned and opened his eyes when the maester started examining him.

"I feel worse than Arya did after the Dead Trenches..." he groaned when the maester set him up into a sitting position to see to him.

Arya ignored the questioning looks making them turn to Jon. They had already learned Wynne wasn't the one to ask for secrets.

"While I don't know the whole story, I actually wasn't even in Fereldan when it happened. During a fight Arya got thrown into a wall by enough force she broke three ribs then hid it from everyone until she passed out from the pain an hour later." Jon shared omitting the creature did not throw her into a wall instead crushed her with her tentacles until Ohgren cut the thing off and she fell to the floor. Alistair hissed particular loudly when the maester applied light pressure to his right eye.

"Arya! What were even doing in something called the 'dead trenches'!" Her mother turned to her in horror "what even are the 'dead trenches'?" Robb asked cutting of his mother's scolding.

"They're part of the deep roads beneath Orzammer, the land of the dwarves, they're said to be crawling with all kinds of mutated monsters and people." Robb and her mother had marching looks odd suprise on their faces.

"There's an entire land of dwarves?" Asked a bewildered Robb Stark. "None of that explains why Arya and apparently Ser Alistair were down there."

"It was back when we were grey wardens. I had been asked to find several things and even the occasional person by the dwarves." She explained leaving out the parts of monsters and paragons.

"Grey wardens? Is that some...mercenary group?" Her mother asked hesitantly.

"The grey wardens are...like peace keepers of a sort. Similar to the nights watch they serve the realms of men and recruit all manners of people." Jon elaborated for her. He woukd be able to help them understand it more if he connected it to similar things she wouldn't know or realise could be connected. "Unlike the watch they have much more freedom. Some of them marry and have children though it is rare. Women are allowed to join as well. In some special circumstances a warden can leave the watch if need for them elsewhere. Though its even rarer. They can enact 'right of conscription' where they can demand someone join the watch. From kings to criminals though it is used rarely unless during a time of great need." Both of them seemed shocked at his explanation. If the maester seemed surprised he didn't show it only his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"That's how I joined technically. The reverend mother was forced by the previous lord commander of the Fereldan grey wardens to let me go. To say she was mad was a vast understatement." Alistair added while the maester stood next to hin applying a poultice. Luckily Wynne's spell healed his nose but left most of the bruised area. It would be much faster healing than Robb's arm. According to the maester it wasn't as bad as they had originally thought. A dislocated shoulder could still take a few moons to heal.

Her mother was just about to ask more questions when a light knock came from the door. The maester went to check and Lord Stark walked into the room.

"I...was hoping we could talk?" He started hesitantly. No one knew what to say. After a moment of awkward silence as they sat and stared at him.

"I believe this is not a discussion meant for our ears, my lady." Maester Luwin gestured with a nod from his to Wynne and then toward the door. Wynne gave her a sympathetic glance and what she thinks might be a encouraging smile. Arya resisted the urge to sigh outloud.

"There is nothing I can say to express how deeply sorry I am." They stayed silent.

"I shouldn't have jumped to such conclusions. I should have let you speak Arya." He looked at her with a deeply sorrowful look and she resisted the urge to reassure him. Her father-Teryn Cousland- always said she was cursed with too much empathy. Perhaps that was why he always encouraged her sword and archery lessons. Why he never said anything when Fergus would snuck her out to go hunting when she was supposed to be at her more practical lessons. She would make it all up to him when she got back. She promised.

"When Luwin told me you were child..." she looked her fingers with Alistair, "it reminded me so much of Lyanna-" he took a deep breath, " but its no excuse for what I did to my son or my son by law. I am ashamed of my actions and myself." He looked down and close his eyes in what she guessed would be repentance. Arya knew Alistair would forgive him. Even if in the future as he did Eamon and isolde. No matter how she felt about the situation or their actions towards him it was his choice alone if he would forgive anyone. She can of course voice her opinion on the matter but forgiveness is personal.

She didn't know how Robb would react. His father had hurt him. The person who was supposed to protect him always from an infant to the end of his life a good father would always protect his children. Her father in his fatal condition had crawled away to try to find them. Her mother had stayed behind to buy them time. This was beginning to get confusing.

"You are my father and my lord." Robb spoke suddenly startling the others, "I know that you acted with love for my sister. For her honor." He looked at her with a gentle look one she recognized held guilt, "I understand, father." The look their father held was one she could describe with one word. Love. Robb stood up and embraced their father with his uninjured arm. Ned embracing him in return with care of his injured arm.

"I am deeply sorry to you as well, Ser Alistair." He said after the moment passed.

"No worry here. I've felt far worse before." Arya slapped her face to avoid slapping his injured face. "Not helpful, my dear." She scolded through her teeth. Jon groaned loudly and walked out. The others eyes trailing after him.

"Is that another dead trenches story?" Robb questioned much to her father's look of horror and disbelief. "I'll tell you about that later father." If she forgets then either Robb or her Lady mother would. Her Lady mother laughed at her husbands face. He smiled in return.

"Putting that aside for a later date, I've received word the royal party will be here in a little bit more than a fortnight." He informed them.

"We must continue preparation with haste then. Arya, how familiar are you at preparing for festivities?" She asked suddenly much for serious.

"I've seen too a few festivals and tournies but I'm not entirely caught up on the westerosi traditions."

"Fit for royalty?"

"I oversaw the king of Fereldan's wedding." They were surprised but moved on quickly.

Her mother thought for a moment before replying, "right then, Sansa hasn't seen to anything this large yet but she knows both southern and northern traditions and rules. You could work together. Could you see to the banquets? The king will want atleast two if not more."

"On arrival and leaving, correct?" She nodded.

"Robert will want to hunt for game while he's here." Lord Stark added.

"Can you say how long he will be staying?" She asked her father.

"Most likely one moon or so. I'm sure his party will want to rest from the road but get home as soon as possible." She hummed.

As if remembering something her father turned to Robb, "we should hunt for large game as early as next week. Stocking our stores up for the servants and many guards he will bring will be hard."

"Aye. With Theon and Jon we could join with the hunters and hunt together." Their parents voiced their approval for the plan and that was that. They excused themselves shortly after.

"Are you staying the night here?" She asked Alistair once they left.

"Of course not. I'd never dream of sleeping away from my beautiful wife." His suave way of trying to charm her made her roll her eyes.

"Maybe you'll show me how beautiful you think I am tonight?" She teased and leaned in close to his face. His cheeks getting pinker. He always flirted with her but the second she returned the favor he'd get redder than a rose.

"Unfortunately, we have too much work for fun right now." She sighed and pulled back from him. Offering her hand to help him up.

"Maybe you can Zevran can go hunting? With my father and brothers?" She suggested opening the door for him as they walked out.

"I'll check with Lord Stark. Zevrans a better hunter than I."

"You're a good hunter, Zevran is just...sneakier."

"He's an assassin." He retorted unimpressed.

"EX-assassin, thank you." Zevran came around the corner infront of them. Alistair jumped back with a very manly squeak.

Zevran doubled over in laughter. Arya rubbed her husbands back in support of his wounded pride but she couldn't help herself but laugh at his pout just a little bit.

"I wasn't scared." He defended himself, "i was only a little surprised is all." Zevran only laughed harder at his defense. She gave him a kiss for solidarity and definitely not to hide her laughter.

Chapter Text

"A rider just arrived, the king's party will be here on the morrow." Jon informed his father as soon as he reached his solar. The family had agreed on a small family meal earlier, but he had been stopped to receive a rider.

"Is everything ready?" Lord Stark asked his family.

"We've stocked the food stores as best as we can and there will another hunting party going out at first light." Robb shared. Rickon bounced on his toes next to their eldest brothers chair. He had just been released from his punishment from throwing stew at Sansa in front of almost all of the Lords of the North.

"Sansa and I have been working day and night for the preparations for the banquets. I believe the extra wine will be here today from White Harbor." Jon took his seat near the fire again. Lady Catelyn gave him a tight smile. She had been doing that a lot. Smiling at him. He supposed she was trying to thank him for bringing her daughter home.

"Bran and I have made sure the direwolves and Snow are fed and content in the kennels for the night." Rickon told his father proudly. While the direwolves usually slept in either their companions or the wolfswood now but with the king's party they didn't want there to be any problems. Snow always slept in Arya's room but he was turning out to be a good example to wolves. The mabari was a good bit larger than the other hounds but smaller than the wolves. Despite that he was confidant and smart enough to bond with the wolves. That being said he obeyed Arya fervently which in return rubbed off on the wolves. They would be allowed out the next day after the chaos settled more.

"Thank you, boys. Great work." Lord Stark praised his youngest sons. Rickon beamed and Bran smiled and nodded his head hoping to seem older than he was.

"I've seen personally to all of the accommodations for everyone. I've taken the liberty to adding some additional refinery from storage to the king and queens chambers." Chambers plural even in the north people were aware of the growing animosity between the king and queen. While most were aware the match wasn't of love but a match arranged by Lord Tywin Lannister for his support of the new monarchy all those years ago. What most weren't aware of is the Lord Hand's health had deteriorated rapidly in the span of the year as he was told by his father. He's sure the growing animosity is because the king won't give the hand's position to the queens father. Dragging her and her children all the way to Winterfell couldn't have helped either.

"Thank you, my lady." Lord Stark thanked her with a smile on his lips.

"We are as prepared as we can be. I want to thank all of you for doing your parts. I am grateful for each and every one of you." Lord Stark held each of their gazes individually before the servants knocked on the door.

"Milords, miladies dinner is served." With a few others help the servants placed empty plates and cups on the tables near each of them. They then brought in larger platters of pork, roasted vegetable, and some steaming bread. They served them quickly and poured wine or water in their cups and left. As they ate small chatter started between groups.

"I can't believe the exquisite furniture we have here just sitting in storage." Lady Catelyn and him were sitting closer to Lord Stark so conversation flowed easily between the three.

"There was even an old looking glass in one of the drawers. We left it behind but it could be a good present for either Sansa's nameday or Robbs betrothed." Whoever she is, Jon took a sip from his goblet. The wine wasn't anything special most likely chosen to clear up space for the imported wines. Father would have chosen the next Lady of Winterfell the morning after Robb's nameday feast instead it was pushed to the side for the king. The lords of the north would be questioning their warden soon enough.

"Whichever comes first." His father said in lieu of an answer. He could tell Lady Stark barely resisted a sigh. He doubted she cared about who Robb married as long as he married now.

Aryas laughter carried itself over their own conversation. Her and Alistair had a large cushioned seat near the door almost opposite the desk. Rickon sat infront of her on the floor gesturing wildly as if in the middle of a very engaging story. Bran sat next to Rickon but leaning against Aryas seat and listening intently to Rickon's story. Alistair watched on amused with a loving smile on his face as Arya laughed at the story.

Robb, Sansa, and Theon were in slightly subdued conversation. Robb was smiling widely and the others had a content half smile that showed their interest to the discussion but in a less boisterous manner. They were gathered in a small circle of smaller cushioned seats almost directly center in the room.

Father stood up slowly and announced to the room, "the hour is growing late and everyone should get a long night's rest before tomorrow." As if suddenly realizing how late it was everyone slowly got up and mumbled 'good night' to eachother. Rickon gave him a hug and Jon kissed he top of his wild curls. Before he had left they had been closer than the others. He almost thought of bringing him with him when he left but he knew logically it would never work out. Lord and Lady Stark would have his head if he stole one of their children away. He would have never been allowed back if his father's blood saved his life. Arya would have had to make the journey on her own. Or would the chase have stopped him from overhearing the wedding of the new King of Fereldan? Only the gods could know.

----

Jon awoke early the next day when the servants came by and knocked on their doors. When he reached father's solar he learned quickly the party had been delayed by the wheelhouse breaking down once again. Apparently it was quite extravagant and not an ounce a bit pratical. In any case it just meant more time to prepare for them.

All the Starks plus Alistair, Theon, and Jon prepared everything to the best of their ability. Arya personally saw to the set up of the braavosi wine that arrived within the night from White Harbour. Sansa walked through all the halls and made sure everything looked perfect. Lady Catelyn looked over the guest quarters for the last time rearranging when she saw a better place for something.

He and the other hunting party members looked over the wolfswood checking for a possibility for the main course. With Robb's arm still being healed he focused on tracking more than the hunting. He was getting quite good at it with all the extra practice lately. Maester Luwin had said he could start using the arm more in rhe next couple of days if he was careful not to strain it more. They found a few deer and some smaller game for pies and stews. They brought the bounty to the kitchens and immediately got to work preparing their appearances.

Luckily Jon wouldn't have to be front and center. He would be standing with his friends rather than with his family. He couldn't expect a bastard to be allowed to stand equal to his true born siblings.

When the king finally reached the gates and rode in with his guards it was a underwhelming sight. The king was tall but he was just as wide around. Zevran whispered something about Alistair to Wynne but he wasn't listening and missed it.

Somehow be was close enough to hear fhe king's booming voice.

"You've got fat." He told Lord Stark and from Jon's position a bit more to the left he could see his father raise his eyebrow at the king's giant belly. They laughed together and everyone was allowed to stand. He noticed some of the servants at the back started walking backwards to get back to their duties. Work never stopped even when kings were around.

Then the king went around to each of the Starks. First to Lady Stark he called her "Cat!" happily and kissed her cheek.

He then questioned where Lord Stark has been all this time which his father replied easily with "guarding the north for you, your grace."

The king briefly greeted Robb and called Sansa pretty. Then he looked at Arya and stopped in his tracks.

"Arya Theirin née Stark, your grace. I've just been brought back by my brother." She glanced in Jon's direction which caused the king to look as well.

"The bastard? I heard he dissapeared a few years after you did. Come here boy! Your king wants to thank you for bringing home a Stark girl." The king beckoned him over the people standing infront of him making more room than necessary by widely stepping to the side. The king turned back around as soon as he saw his order being obeyed. He walked slowly as if he was heading to his own beheading. Wynne gave him a encouraging look. Zevran had an indecipherable look on his face. Ohgren seemed curious.

"Where did you find her?"

"Fereldan, your grace. At its capital, Denerim." The best lies always held truth.

"Fereldan? When have i heard about that..." the king seemed to be lost in thought.

"We will have plenty of time to talk later. We have been on the road for moons. The children are exhausted." The queen argued she threw a strange look at Arya as she came to stand by her husband.

"I must pay my respects, Ned." The king said and ignored his wife and queen. "We shall share stories over the feast tonight." He told them slightly lighter. Lord Stark kissed the queen's hand with "my queen." And steered the king to the crypts. After that everyone else emptied the courtyard.

Jon sighed and went to find Zevran or Oghren. They could spar for a good while. It would calm his nerves. He finally found Oghren trying to sneak to the cellars to refill his hip flask.

"You're not seriously trying to steal wine right now?"

"What are you sodding going to do about it, nug-licker?" Ohgren spoke with his gruff voice.

Jon sighed, "care for a spar?" Ohgren laughed and agreed? "I'll even go easy on you." As they walked back to the courtyard Jon was glad most people had dispersed even the ones who were still entering the gate had found somewhere else.

When he got back he'd grabbed his armor he has previously left from another spar and readied himself. His armor was given to him by Arya when he first went on one of the patrols to fight the last of the darkspawn. She had called it 'Effort' a full set of silverite armor with lower levels of enchantments. He rarely wore the helmet unless he thought he'd be fighting a troll. It was a little much otherwise.

Unlike the westerosi Fereldan's didn't often spar with blunt swords unless you were still young and learning. Even Arya, a high-born lady of House Cousland had carried live steel since her tenth nameday. Though he had been told that she was a young prodigy. Apparently she won her first melee at age 12 and before that she won almost every archery contest she was in since her ninth nameday. Just before well everything she had even won two tournies.

Ohgren met him on the courtyard wearing his own armor. He wore a full set of the Legion of the Dead armor he always wore. He had asked him once if he was part of the Legion and apparently he only wore it because Arya gave it to him. While he never said it or even acted like it he heavily respected Arya and Jon has heard him refer to her as the 'boss'. He's even seen him let her lift him onto his horse before which is quite a feat itself he may be a dwarf but he's still quite large with his stomach full of wine. He was even wearing armor for the gods sake!

Ohgren heaved his battle axe over his shoulder and charged. Jon didn't bother parrying and dodged to the side with a swipe. Ohgren is one of the strongest people he has ever known but also slower than most. He probably would be faster if he wasn't always drunk but alas. Arya told him she traveled with a Quanari warrior who could throw Ohgren into the air. Jon has of course never met him as he rejoined his people before he had ever even arrived in Denerim. He still wished he could have seen Oghren's face when he was thrown though.

He swiped at Oghren's feet but he pushed Jon back with the butt of his axe. He attempted to slash at him when he fell back but Jon feigned to the right and hit Ohgren with the flat side of his blade. The spar continued for a while with neither lf them truly winning over the other until Ohgren parried him and used his strength to push him to the ground with a thud.

He placed his axe to his throat and waited. He distantly remembered seeing Arya fall to that move before but she instead took her sword and jammed it into the grooves of the great axe and into the ground then used her shield to bash his head and force him to weird instead. Arya wasn't considered to be the best swordsmaster in all of Fereldan for nothing. Being the Hero of Fereldan helped and defeating a war hero as her king's champion too but it was her quick thinking and her perseverance that made her who she was.

But he wasn't Arya, "I yeild." He told him resolute. Ohgren placed his axe back onto his back and held out a hand for him to grab. Jon took it and allowed himself to be dragged to his feet. It was then that he noticed the crowd and the blond brothers walking toward them.

He didn't need to be told anything to recognize Ser Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer and his younger brother Tyrion Lannister the Imp. Ser Jaime had a wide smirk on his face but with shocked eyes few would be able to notice. Lord Tyrion had a much more noticeably surprised and interested expression. After the crowd realized the fight was over most dispersed.

"I've never met a dwarf warrior before." Ser Jaime addressed Ohgren, "especially one that can defeat someone that can fight like you." He added looking at Jon similar to how a cat might look at a mouse. Despite the kingsguard being far from the scariest things he's ever face his stare gives him an incredibly uneasy feeling.

"How did you get to being so good at fighting? I was formally trained since the cradle but I've never had much prowess for it." Lord Tyrion asked instead of waiting for Ohgren or Jon to respond to his brother's taunting.

"I suppose being born with an axe in one hand and a flask of ale in the other is how I got to be so sodding great." Atleast Ohgren was taking half a hint from Arya's half truths only order. Lord Tyrion seemed to find his remark amusing and only seemed more curious about the warrior. Jon resisted the urge to sigh. He seemed to be doing that a lot anyway.

Ser Jaime on the other hand smile tightened and he seemed to take offense somehow. "Come brother, we still need to return to Cersei." He spoke hurried and like he wanted to whisper it. Tyrion's face became more pinched at the mention of his sister but covered it up with a joke "yes, we really should good see our lovely queen and sister. Good day sers, I hope to meet again preferably when we can get deep in our cups." He ended with slight flourish with his hand and a nod of his head and followed his increasingly hurried brother in presumably where they thought the guest quarters where which was not the direction they were going in. Was it by design or do they just have zero idea where they are? Well it certainly wasn't any of his business.

"Bunch of moss-licking pansies here."Ohgren grunted a goodbye and left to hopefully not try to steal more wine.

Now that he was alone...he glanced around to make sure nobody was around and let out the large sigh he had been holding in.

------

"Should I wear the purple or the blue?...or maybe the green? So many choices..." his wife's sister mused to herself. Alistair sat on their guest bed and watched amused.

Lady Sansa had apparently been invited to wear one of Aryas dresses as according to his sister by law 'much more appropriate to wear in front of the queen'. You can imagine his surprise when he learned Sansa was the elder.

Arya always seemed wise beyond her years. Beatiful, calm, intelligent...beautiful, kind, sweet, loving, brave. She's just perfect. With her little eyebrow creases when she's confused. Her head tilting before she asks a question. Her fierce attitude when she tries to protect someone. Her nose and eyes crinkling in pain when someone is hurt or killed and she couldn't stop it. Her constant commanding presence by his side. He could ever ask for a more perfect wife. She was his everything and soon they would have a babe of their own. It was something that worried him for a while but now it was happening. He was hesitant in the beginning what with all the rituals but his Arya always found a way to convince him even of her mad ideas.

He must have zoned off because he was shaken awake when the door slammed shut. Followed by his lovely wife giggling staring at it.

"Well atleast she's happy." She spoke sarcastically to him.

"Sorry-what?"

"No need to worry she just chose one of my dresses and ran off with it." He nodded his head at her answer.

"Well then, I'll need your help with these strings in the back again." Arya absolutely hated how the dresses were designed here. She needed his help just to change into a night gown. Alistair wasn't complaining though.

He slipped the dress off her revealing her underclothes. As is sensing his thoughts she immediately pushed him away side stepping to get to her dress.

"I don't think so. I am not being late again because you can't keep it in your pants." She slipped this dress on best as she could the came back up to him.

"That's hurts my manly feeling you know. I'm sad now and it's all your fault. I'm not helping you anymore." He crossed his arms than sat down on the bed. He wasn't going to take that insult lying down.

"Fine. i'll just get Zevran to do it for me." She said turning to the door. Zevran! You little wife-stealing piece of crap!

"Wait! Wait I'll help!" He called out and she turned around with a smug smile on her face. Did he mention how annoying she was?

-----

Arya has been to many banquets in her lifetime. Some even in honor of her. The north reminded her slightly of Orzammer however weird that may be. Everyone had a place and the people could be hard and rough but loving underneath. While she hadn't wanted to support King Bhelen in the beginning because of everything she found out about him Orzammer was falling behind and a forward thinking king was just what they needed even if she thought Harrowmount was the better person.

But that was the past and today was a new day.

She entered the Great Hall arm in arm with Alistair. She smiled at her longtime friends who in return each gave their own version of it back. Wynne's smile being encouraging with a twinkle in her eyes like she might have been laughing at something, Zevran was amused but sent her a wave, Oghren's smile being a bit too wide and very much like he was drunk. She loved them all even if they were quite eccentric.

She walked to her seat with the rest of her siblings and their highnesses.

"Your highnesses." Her and Alistair greeted similarly as they nodded in respect to the princes and princess. She hadn't actually met them yet but it was quite obvious who they were.

The oldest and the heir Prince Joffrey was recently betrothed to her sister. He sat next to her and it was obvious Sansa was enamored with him. To Arya he looked just a bit too feminine and absolutely nothing like King Robert. Neither did his siblings. Prince Joffrey looked at her sister like she was a sheep he was eyeing for the kill. He turned to look at Arya with a sneer in his smile.

"My lady. I must compliment your beauty. I hadn't expected the north to hold such beautiful ladies." He kissed her hand delicately and complimented her as he was taught she supposed. She tightened her other hand over Alistairs tensing wrist.

All golden haired and green eyed. Hmm.
"Your royal highness, how kind of you to say that." She fauned and sat down slowly. She noticed her cup had wine in it. Alistair glanced knowingly at her.

"I love your dress, Lady Arya. I wish i had such a beautiful one." The princess complimented her with real genuine unlike her brother. She smiled sweetly. She remember she was only slightly younger than her and of the same age of Bran. Her younger brother was a few years older than Rickon. They sat together in conversation. They seemed to get along very well. If she strained her ears she could hear Bran mention the wolves and Tommen say something about cats.

"On the contrary, your dress is much prettier than mine." The princess had a lighter pink dress that must have been terribly cold outside but bearable in the halls of the castle. It had gold details that might be lions and some stag antlers embellished proudly. The collar of it was quite high. It was a dress of a young girl but not a child. Arya's dress was one of a woman reminding others she was married.

It was a lighter green with long flowing sleeves which where actually detachable incase she needed to fight. It had several darker green leaves stitched into it. Her collar was lower and as Alistair said 'daring'. The dress style wasn't all thay different than her mothers apart from the collar and color.

The one Sansa borrowed from her was one of her newer ones. It was embellished with dancing wolves in red leaves on a gray background. It was quite a piece. Another one Jon commissioned and such was quite comfortable and warm but still magnificent. The collar was lower but still high.

The princess smiled but didn't say anything more on dresses instead they talked about their journeys and homes. Alistair was luckily seated by Robb and Theon and could enjoy their company instead of the princes. They actually got along very well together the four of them.

Jon was seated down below but she hadn't caught his eye when she went by instead she had noticed him talking to a darker bearded man that looked similar to her father. Could he be Uncle Benjen of the black? Jon had talked some of their uncle who joined the Nights Watch long before she was even born.

She ate some of the tender venison steak and roasted vegetable medley. She didn't drink any of her wine.

"Lady Arya, are you not thirsty? I've noticed you've not taken a single sip of your wine?" Joffrey asked in his seeming to be usaul sneering voice. She smiled and answered politely, "I appreciate your worry but in Fereldan it is considered a bad omen to drink while expecting." His shocked face was well worth the want to keep the babe a secret. It wasn't a huge deal if he knew anyways they would be leaving the same day her father will leave for Kings Landing.

"Congratulations to both you and Ser Alistair!" Mrycella exclaimed loudly clasping her hands together and drawing the attention of the rest of the table and even a surrounding one, much to her embarrassment. She was saved by one of the servants summoning her and Alistair to the kings table.

They noticed Jon had been unwillingly dragged here as well. The king seemed to be deep in his cups and was staring at a nearby well endowed servant girl. Her fathers face was perfectly blank but she recognized the crinkle of his eyebrow showing his great disappointment and anger towards his old friend. Jon looked like he sucked a lemon then squeezed the rest of the juice onto cuts on his hands.

"Your grace, you summoned me?"

"Oh yes, yes! Sit down girl and your knight too." Once they sat down Jon sent a seething look in her direction. He must have been here for awhile...

"Your grace..?" She once again tried to question once they settled.

"I want to hear all about Fereldan. I heard you and Alistair got up to quite a lot of adventures?" She sent her own seething look at Jon when the king blinked.

"Well I'm sure he was exaggerating greatly."

"Is there truly an entire land of dwarves underneath a mountain?" Tyrion Lannister barely managed to not interupt her with his curiosity.

"Orzammar? Yes, actually Ohgren is from there." Alistair answered instead.

"Ohgren?" The king questioned confused.

"The dwarf warrior! I saw him beat the bastard into the ground earlier." As Lord Tyrions recounted, Jon's look of betrayal betrayed all she needed to know and she burst out laughing.

"Ohgren is a great warrior. He was born into the warrior-caste in Orzammar and gained quite a lot of fame when he was younger in the provings. A series of battles with strict rules and almost entirely duels."

"Like a melee?"

"Not exactly. They're mostly one on one duels. With the exception of the group fight at the end and sometimes a two person fight. It's an exilerating experience fighting in them."

"You've personally fought in them?" Her father asked shocked. Shit. She did not mean to say that she forgot about the rules here caught up in the memories. Curse her big mouth. Alistair looked worried.

"Well yes I did fight in a few of them."

"And even won championship at the memorial provings!" Ohgren boisterously shouted as he and her other companions came up behind them. She whipped her head around to level him with the worst seething glare she could muster to shut him up.

"Uh-actually she lost." Arya gave into the urge and smacked her palm to her face.

"I was formally trained in both swordsmanship and archery by the Couslands since I first started living with them." She admitted at last. The lords and the king looked surprised by her admission.

"Yes, the archery was how she took me down almost two years ago." Zevran remarked with nostalgia.

"Took you down?" Ser Jaime Lannister came to stand in his golden armor at the table from his place guarding the king by the wall.

"Aw my apologies, I thought we were clearing the air."

"I believe that story is for another day but I suppose there are others we can tell?" There was no need to expose Zevrans past but she must obey a king even if he wasn't hers.

"Hmm about the Couslands, you said they took you in? Me and Ned were fostered together in the Eyrie by Jon Arryn when we were boys. Quite a lot of fun it was, right Ned." He laughed as if remembering something particular. Her father smiled but his pinched expression stayed.

"Yes, their seat of power was Highever. They ruled the coastlands and their power was considered second only to the royal family." Her father looked more interested but the king seemed displeased.

"If they were so powerful, why didn't they ever bring you home?" Her stomach plummeted and knot grew in her throat.

A moment of stunned silence washed over them. The king seemed like he was thinking heavily. Lord Stark looked like he never even considered them bringing her home. Everyone else had a look of consideration on their faces like they too wondered the answer.

She sighed, she hoped she wouldn't have to talk about this part, "when I was found i was injured and i could barely remember my name. They had no idea who I was or how I had gotten there. I had no memory to tell them where i came from."

"Arya didn't even recognize me when i called on her." Jon pointed out. Arya nodded in approval and continued. Her audience was now deeply interested.

"The Cousland heir and only child, Fergus, was the one to find me. He brought me to his home and had the healers attend to me. For an entire moon I did not wake." She paused, Alistair and Jon each grabbed one of her hands and squeezed, " for a while they thought it would be best to...put an end to my misery..."

"Gods..." Her father buried his face in his hands. King Robert patted his old friend on the shoulder with a concerned face. The Lannister brothers seemed only curious at her tale but she did not fault them for it they did not know her so how could she expect them care about something so far in the past? She already survived it and recovered from that anyway.

"But Fergus was young, not that much older than Robb is now, he wouldn't let them kill me. My earliest surviving memory is of him carrying me back to the castle. I recovered and came to see him as a brother soon after. The Teryns, his parents, tried to look for my family, but..." she paused again but did not lift her head to check their reactions once more.

"They could not find anyone who knew who I was. There were many theories and dead trails but eventually Fergus convinced them to claim me as a sickly child who just recovered. I became the Lady Arya Cousland and was raised as their daughter." At the end of her retelling she looked up to judge their reactions. Her friends looked content with the knowledge that they already knew most of the story. Alistair wasn't surprised at anything. Back when they were on the roads of Fereldan looking over their shoulders for the darkspawn or more assasins there were few things to do other than talk. At night after a long day and they couldn't sleep, they would sit in their shared tent with their arms wrapped around eachother and just talk.

"I spent most of my boy hood and even my early adult years in the Eyrie. I was never close with my brothers but I found brotherhood with Ned. I hope that you grow closer to your siblings than I did." King Robert spoke softer than she thought possible. From what she saw earlier of him and even heard she hadn't expected such a softness from him.

"Thank you, your grace." Her father looked conflicted. Whether it was from his friend or from her she couldn't tell.

"But why join the Grey Wardens then? With how powerful the Couslands are, why didnt you marry a highborn man and rule his keep, why put your life on the line with them?" Her father questioned.

"The grey wardens? What is that?" After explaining to the king he laughed, "only your honorable blood would rather join and die than see reason!"

"I didn't join because I wanted to. The Couslands were betrayed and slaughtered even my baby nephew was killed. The lord commander of the grey wardens was visiting us to recruit one of our knights instead he was killed and the lord commander promised my-the teryn that he would save me if I joined the grey wardens in his place."

"I apologize for your loss, my lady. I shouldn't have said such a thing even as a jest." The king sounded sincere. No one else had anything left to say. Soon after most everyone retired to their rooms except for the ones who wanted to drink all night.

"Was this a mistake?" She whispered to Al when they laid in bed that night. He leaned down and kissed her head but had no answer for her. She supposed there was nothing to do about it anymore. Everything would be as it was soon. Soon she and her companions would pack up and leave westeros forever.

------

The next morning he was told he was requested by the king to go hunting. Arya picked out a dark brown leather doublet with hints of gold for him. She told him the gold made his hair shine. Like he needed shiny hair but if it made her happy he would wear it. She needed it after last night.

"Was this a mistake?"

Arya was the strongest person he knew. He had admired her strength and her courage even at their first meeting. Duncan had sent him a message to be gentle with the girl as she and her brother were the only survivors from a betrayal and massacre of almost her entire household. Yet she flirted with him!

Now that he knew her more he knows she was trying to keep her mind off of everything. Still lesser men have completely collapsed under lesser stress before.

Over time, his initial respect turned admiration and admiration turned to love. And the rest was history as they say.

When he met up with his new brothers by law they were quickly shoveling food into their mouths.

"Alistair! Are you excited to go hunting with the king?" Robb called as soon as he was close enough.

"Not much a king, I'd say." Theon insulted.

"Watch your tongue. He's still the king of the seven kingdoms." Robb retorted back causing Theon to mumble an apology.

"Did you rest well?" Jon asked when he sat down and loaded his plate. While westeros seemed very lacking from all he's heard from here he's glad Jon has finally started warming up to him. He'd almost assumed Jon would hate him forever. When Jon first arrived in Denerim and all the revelations that he caused it was made clear he saw Alistair as Arya's ball and chain for lack of a better word.

And he wasn't denying it either. If she hadn't married him he couldn't say for sure Arya wouldn't have immediately left for Westeros. Not that she would abandon her post as the Lord Commandor of the Grey Wardens of Fereldan but that there was a plethora of reasons she would have to travel to a new continent. But she had married him and became his queen.

Their marriage was one of love but that didn't mean it didn't have political advantages. Arya's public status as a Cousland gave his claim legitimacy and took away from his own bastard status. Her being the Hero of Fereldan who slayed the archdemon and ended the fifth blight made her beloved by the nobles and the smallfolk as well. The loyalty she brewed within all the other kingdoms and cities helped as well.

While he had been with Arya almost every step of the way he had always let her lead. Even now he was following her lead. Arya and Eamon were truly the only reason Fereldan was surviving because Maker knows he wasn't taught how to be a king. That's not to say he isn't learning just that he still struggled heavily.

"Alright, how did you fare?"

"Well enough."

"Is everyone ready for the hunt?" Robb asked while waving a piece of sausage around in front of Grey Winds face. The wolf waited patiently for him to stop moving then snatched it. Ghost lopped up the grease from the bacon Jon gave him. He wondered what Snow and Wolf were up to. Probably with Arya while Arya was initially unsure if she wanted to bond with the wolf especially when they go back to Fereldan she had come to love the she-wolf. Arya kept the name Wolf but has started to tend to her like her siblings did. Snow is quite happy with the extra attention from Wolf. He knew that was a concern of Aryas as well. Arya had raised him since he was a baby and their relationship reflected it. He was actually a runt and was consequently rejected by his mother and siblings. Unfortunately she was the only nursing mother at the time. They were going to put him down so he wouldn't starve to death but Arya convinced them to let her keep him and such their great mischief started.

"Ah, there you boys are the hunting party is ready to depart. I trust you will not embarrass yourselves or bring dishonor on our house?" Lord Stark had light humor in his voice but they all knew there was truth in what he said.

"Hope you weren't planning on leaving without me?" Zevran met them at the door dressed in his hunting clothes. He had a bow looped around his back and he carried his swords down at his waist. He probably didn't plan on using them as Zevran always kept his weapons on his back but it doesn't hurt to be prepared.

"Ser Zevran? I wasn't aware you were going?" Meaning Lord Stark didn't think his presence was a good idea.

"Please, my lord is am no lord but I am one of the best trackers you've ever seen. I can assure you, you will need my services." He happily pointed out. Zevran certainly wasn't wrong about the tracking. If the kings party hunted as loud as they traveled they would scare everything out of the wolfswood before anyone could even set an eye on game.

Lord Stark still seemed unmoved.

"Alistair can voach for me." Zevran smirked, the little rat. Lord Stark looked at him questionably.

"Well...he and Arya did hunt for most of our food when we traveled." Alistair hesitated but admitted his skills were alright.

"Hah, see!" Zevran gleefuly pointed at him, Lord Stark raised an eyebrow at his lack of manners, "I mean, thank you, my friend." He could hear snickering behind him.

Lord Stark sighed but relented and gave him permission.

When they reached the gate they were greeted by a large party. The king and two of his kingsguard were with him. He didn't know their names and he didn't like the way the frog looking face one sneered at him.

"Ned! We were about to leave without you!" The king seemed in higher spirits today. Maybe he was drunk enough he forgot everything they said last night.

"And how were you planning on getting back without my men, your grace?" Lord Stark snarked back. The man was actually quite witty. He guesses that must be who Arya got her tongue from. Her wit and snarky comments could make quite alot of people mad at them but she also had a way with sweet words and could make allies from her enemies. Her court training could be quite deceiving.

One of the stablemen brought over his horse that he was gifted in White Harbour.

"Hey, girl." The horse was quite sweet and stuck her face at him like she knew what he had, "do you smell what I brought you?" He grabbed the apple from his back pocket and offered it to her. The horses name was actually Apple which he was delighted to find was because she had a particular affinity for them. Infact apples weren't allowed in the stables for fear she would jump her stall to get one. If a rider wanted to feed their horse an apple it had to be where the horse couldn't smell it.

Apple continued sniffing and butting him with her head looking for more.

"Sorry, girl. I'm all out." She snorted or the horse equivalent of it and he mounted her easily. She had a good temperament if you didn't take the apples into account. He steared his horse to follow his new companions. Robb smiled at him as he pulled alongside. Jon certainly wasn't lying when he said Robb was friendly. Not that he couldn't be dangerous just that it made sense he was related to Arya. Arya who recruited Zevran after he tried to assassinate them.

"Care for a bet, friends?" Zevran asked the others. They rode together with Alistair, Robb, and Jon infront and with Theon behind Robb and Zevran behind Jon. Speaking of Zevran and Jon he couldn't help but notice some...tension. Maybe soon he would be close enough with Jon to pester him about it. He'd pester Zevran but he would probably somehow bring up something wildly inappropriate so Alistair has learned not to bother him on such matters anymore. He shivered thinking of it.

"What kind of bet?" Theon challenged with all the confidence of boyhood. He and Theon were actually only a few moons apart in age. It was strange reminder of what he could have been had he never been humbled epicly by being a Grey Warden. Not to say he didn't have his moments of arrogance but his life and wife had humbled him heavily.

"Say didn't Arya ban you from placing stupid bets?"

"Ugh, come on, why do you have to listen to her anyway? She can't actually stop you from doing anything." Theon shot back arrogantly. He noticed Zevran's calculating look.

"Zevran." He warned. Jon shot him a look.

"Isn't Theon kind of right though? From what I've seen all of you basically bend over backward for her. Isn't that a bit much?" Robb wondered. It wasn't that he was insulting his sister but he didn't really know the Arya they show such reverence to.

"We respect her and most of us wouldn't be here without her, including myself." Alistair answered. Robb still had a dubious look on his face.

Zevran nodded his head but said nothing aloud.

"We're about to be left behind." Jon pointed out calmly. Nothing really happened until later once most everyone already had some game.

Halfway through the small group found themselves farther at the front. They had all gotten enough that they were now just riding rather than hunting anymore. At the front were King Robert and Lord Stark. The crown prince rode behind them but infront of the others. He had a large ornate crossbow that looked more like it had been designed for looks rather than practicality.

Which could be the reason he still had no game. Both Lord Stark and the king had already had quite a few kills between the two even though the king drank from his wineskin as a man parched from long years of drought.

Is that what he could turn into? A fat lazy man who whores and drinks like it's his last day to live? Could he become that? No, Arya would never let

Chapter Text

The wind ruffled his clothes and sent his hair billowing wildly. Bran glanced down to Summers watchful eyes resting on his paws. He laid down at the foot of the Broken Tower. He was used to his climbing by now.

The direwolf had been his sole confidant for years. From his warging and greendreams he's seen them all.

Though it had been several years since he climbed the crumbling tower he remembered which stones would fall apart in his hands or the ones he could hang from. Jon had been teaching him and Rickon how to carved wooden toys for Arya's babe. He had been working on his yesterday in the peace and quiet of the empty tower and forgotten his work when he left.

Usually the door was unlocked but a someone must have locked it. Most likely to keep the kings party out of the tower for fear they would get hurt since the structure could be unstable at times especially if you were unfamiliar with the tower itself.
Good thing he was the best climber in all of Winterfell.

Bran was just getting closer to the window at the top when he heard noises. He strained his hearing to decipher the sounds and immediately his ears and face went red.

'Seems like now is not the right time,' he thought heavily embarrassed. He definitely knew what those sounds meant and he for sure did not want to know who was up there. He made his escape as quickly as he could jumping a few feet earlier and buckling under his left foot. Bran didn't have a chance to even feel the pain before he hit his head on the sharp rock jutting out from the ground and everything faded to black.

-------

"Will he still be able to travel, Luwin?" His lord father asked while his mother laced his hand with hers. His head spiked with pain when she turned her face to him. She gave him a comforting smile and turned her gaze back to maester.

"His ankle was luckily only sprained so it should heal quickly, but" his mother led out a sigh of relief, "his head is the real problem, he needed quite a few stitches it would not be wise to travel in his condition." His father sighed.

"But I'm going to Kings Landing in a fortnight!" He argued it only sounded weak and the strain made his head swim and be resisted the urge to whimper in pain.

"I'm afraid it would be to dangerous, infections and fevers can spread easily in such a place." The maester told him with pity in his eyes.

"But father-!"

"You will only stay in Winterfell for a little while, I promise. It won't be long when we come back for Robbs wedding and you'll come with us then, alright?" His father promised but Robb wasn't even betrothed yet.

'By the time he got to Kings Landing he'd be too old to squire!' He thought frustrated with everything and in pain. He'd never be a knight.

He doesn't remember anything more from that conversation.

-----

"Your sewing is beautiful, princess!" Septa Mordane simmered over the embarrassed girl. She thanked her politely but it was obvious she didn't enjoy the attention as much as her older brother.

She pulled the needle through the fabric and pricked her finger. She grunted in pain and stuck her finger into her mouth to ease it.

It was a blanket for her babe, Sansa had gifted her some of her treasured imported silk from Essos so it was very soft. She had apparently asked for it for her last nameday but was never able to decide on what to do with it. Sansa had offered to sew it for her but she still remembered her mother Eleanor teaching her of her motherly duties.

"Now, when a woman learns she is with child she should begin their first blanket. The blamket must be soft and filled with love. A mother must do this to full the blanket with her love and when that baby wraps their little hands around it they always feel their mother's love even when apart." Her mother smiled at her and brushed a hair from her daughter's face. Arya giggled when she booped her nose.

If her memory was correct she would have been ten namedays old when she stsrted learning about her duties as a mother. The real truth of it all. She can't say she was ever as deluded as Sansa is with her songs of chivalry and knights but she wasn't raised by cruel hands. When she killed a rabbit hunting with Fergus he was there to whisper comfort and to teach her why they hunted. When she broke her arm while training and her father picked her up and brought her all the way to physician and mage's chambers. When Rendon Howe brought her a new pretty pink dress for her nineth nameday and she immediately ripped it playing her mother sewed it up for her by the next morning.

Her childhood might have been unconventional but that didn't mean she wasn't deeply loved. It didn't mean she wasn't deeply hurt either.

What would she be like if she stayed in Winterfell her whole life?

She shook her head and rid herself of those thoughts. A voice that sounded suspiciously like father Bryce told her there was no point in crying over what-ifs.

"What are you making?" A meek voice asked her. She looked it up to see who she's certain her name must be Jeyne. The lady must be one of Sansa's friends. She's seen them giggle over boys and songs before.

"A blanket for the babe." She starred at her for a few seconds then did a 'oh' expression with her mouth than put her head back down. What an odd girl.

"Your stitches are too loose, Lady Arya." The septa criticized her. She smiled and didn't dignify her with response. She saw Sansa roll her eyes at the septa before immediately throwing herself back into he sewing work when she turned around.

When the septa finally decided she had enough of torturing them all she finally dismissed them. She found herself above the courtyard. Bran stood watching sadly on a bench. His head was still wrapped in bandages.

"I can't believe how stupid I was."

"You're not stupid, it was just a mistake." She rubbed his shoulder hoping to be soothing. He sunk onto the railings and placed his head into his arms.

"I'm never going to be a knight." Bran mumbled out sounding defeated.

"You will. Even if you're too old for westeros, me or Jon, even Alistair would let you squire for them."

"Are you a knight?" He lifted his head and his eyes twinkled with tears amidst a rekindling of hope.

"I was knighted when I was your age, but Alistair wasn't knighted until he was twenty. You're still young, Bran. This is only a setback. This will not stop you." Bran rushed her and hugged her around her middle. She hadn't noticed how much shorter he was to her before. She wrapped her arms around him. "Do you promise?" He whispered, "I promise, little brother."

-------

It's the day before she leaves when her lord father and lady mother summon her, Robb, and Jon to his solar. Maester Luwin is there and smiles lightly at her. Robb arrived earlier than her but he still wore a face of confusion.

"Father, Mother." She greets her dour-faced parents. Jon entered with her and greeted them as Lord and Lady Stark.

Robb offered her his chair infront of their father's desk and she gladly accepts. The babe was starting to hurt her feet already. Alistair had even told her she was showing earlier that morning. Not enough to see when she wore dresses but a husband would notice things others wouldn't. Particularly what's under her clothes, of course.

"We called you here because you all are old enough and trusted enough to be involved in these coming affairs." Her father started once everyone was settled where they were. She looked to her mother for an explanation but her head was completely down and her hands clapsed so firmly she could see hundreds of wrinkles from the paper she held. Her mouth moved slightly like she was praying.

"Why is Sansa not here? She's older than Arya." Robb cut in when their father took a deep breath in. Everyone knew the answer but Robb wanted him to admit it.

"We have...sheltered her too much. She is a woman grown but she still believes in the knights in songs. Everyone here has seen men at their worst and understands things she has not come to understand yet." Her father rubbed his temple as if the notion of how unprepared his daughter is for Kings Landing just hit him.

"Ned." Her Lady mother linked her hand with his and her father stood once more as if her support bolstered him.

"A lady does not always have to like what her husband is doing but she must support him publicly even while she argues in private."

"I received a letter from my sister, she wrote me from the Vale." Her mother now had her siblings rapt attention. From what she knows about Lysa Arryn...is only that she is the younger sister of her mother and had married Jon Arryn and had one sickly son by him. She knows nothing else about the woman other than what that implies.

"In it she tells of how she had to flee Kings Landing because the Lannisters poisoned her husband and would have poisoned her snd her son as well." She held the letter unsure than offered it up to no one in particular. Robb immediately grabbed it as he read his eyes grew in shock. Jon went to read offer his shoulder and then passed it to her with a disturbed face.

"We must be prepared, we each of a part to play in this conspiracy. By accepting the position of hand I have placed a target on all of you unknowingly. This is all the more reason to be careful in that cesspool of a city." His northern rasp making the word 'cesspool' sound like a real curse.
"I know that you are more than ready to be the Lord of Winterfell here, Robb. Be cautious and know that I am proud of you." Robb nodded his head in understanding.

"Arya, Jon I know that you wanted to leave for Fereldan but I beg of you, please, come with me to Kings Landing. You can go where I cannot and can protect your sister in ways I cannot. Please teach her what I have failed to teach her." He came to stand infront of her and all but collapsed onto his knees. His eyes were pleading and dewy. She shuddered a breath out. Her chest seemed to tighten and constrict.

"Alright, father." She was surprised at how level her voice sounded.

"We will not fail you, father." Jon promised and earned a small smile.
"Winter is coming, and we all have our duties." Lord Stark invoked their houses name and dismissed them without ever even saying it was a dismissal.

-------

"I know that you all miss Fereldan and home, so I do not ask you to stay with me especially after hearing the dangers." She admitted to her circle of companions all gathered in her and Al's bed.

"Are you mad?" Alistair asked her after a moment passed," do you really think i would leave my pregnant wife to travel to the worst place in all of Westeros? I'm coming with you, no matter what." He grabbed her hand and kissed it softly confirming his loyalty and promise.

"It sounds to me like you will have need for a trained assassin. I'm in." Zevran snarked confidently. He was certainly right about that. He is a well studied apothecary. Knowing both poisons and antidote and how to make them and substitute their ingredients in case there is a limited supply.

"I'm sure there will be even better wine there,I guess I can go." Ohgren grunted as if it was a chore, but they had all gotten used to his indifferent attitude. It was clear to everyone he cared about going, but he certainly wasn't going to say it out loud.

"Seems like we have another adventure ahead of us." Wynne remarked into her tea,"and you know I won't miss adventure to sit around."

"Thank you, everyone. There is no one else I'd rather do this with then all of you."

"Hey, I didn't join for a bunch of sodding moss-lickers." Ohgren complained causing everyone to burst into laughter. Their laughter carried into the night until the night grew more serious and plans were carefully calculated and laid out.

--------

It was the next morning when her father told her Queen Cersei wanted to have tea with her and Sansa while the men labored preparing for the journey.

Meaning she had to change into a dress for a tea party rather than her riding leathers. She decided on one of her green dresses she wore the first time she arrived in Wintefell. It wasn't extremely elaborate but it was a tea party not a ball.

Apparently the Queen was unaware of what to wear to a tea party. She wore an elaborate velvety red dress with gold embellishments. She had a fur shawl wrapped around her shoulders with a snide smile on her face. She sat at a small table with her only daughter in another pink dress. This time it looked slightly thicker than the one from dinner a few weeks ago. The princess gave her a wide smile which earned a glare from her mother. Myrcella wilted underneath the attention.

"Your grace, I must say how flattered I am that you invited me for tea." She curtsied deeply and kept a courteous smile on her face all throughout her words. Despite how much she wanted to rudely ask what in the hells she wanted so early in the morning at such a time.

"Your grace, your dress is just so beautiful." Her sweet sister simpered underneath the idea of the Queen. Sometimes she was jealous of her naivety. The naivety of a girl who knew only the comforts of life.

"Your dress is very pretty as well, little dove." The queens smile turned upward and her eyes laughed like she thought of something hilarious. The dress was one of their mother's with dark purple weirwood leaves and an only slightly lighter purple underneath. It had a slightly plunging neckline that was sure to turn heads. If she remembers correctly it used to have a high collar when their mother wore it.

The queen spread her arm out from her shawl and gestured to seats almost across from her and her daughter, "please, my ladies, sit." They took the offered seats with Sansa sitting across from the Queen and Arya across from Myrcella.

"It is such a lovely morning isn't it, your highness?"

"Of course, Lady Arya. It's not nearly as cold as it had been." Then blushed like she realized she had accidentally insulted Arya's homeland.

"Do not worry, your highness. I am not used to the cold either." She reassured her with a smile and the princess gave her a relieved smile back.

"I am curious, Lady Arya, why did you change your mind about going to King's landing now?" Her sister paused in her smiling and she too looked over at her surprised. She must not have been informed on her party joining with the king's.

"My lord husband heard of the great tournies that are held there and wanted to compete in them. He has won several different jousting and melee tournaments in Denerim." She already had her story prepared. They agreed that Alistair was the leader and they needed to act more like it. A lady controlling the conversation in her family's home is expected. A lady controlling the conversation anywhere else would only belittle him.

The queen assessed her face than seemed to come to a conclusion. Queen Cersei did not adress her the entire rest of the conversation. She spoke to both Mrycella and Sansa but she wasn't addressed again. Perfect. Myrcella picked up on her mothers attitude and decided to do the opposite of her mother and give her complete attention to Arya.

She hadn't had only two interactions with the queen where she hid behind her husband and brother and thanks to that she only sees a simple girl. The queen doesn't see her as any kind of threat to her power. Meaning she won't notice her investigation into her and her family. She would get to the bottom of Jon Arryn's murder, for her father.

Much more powerful people have doubted her and now they no longer live to tell the cautionary tale.
------

She supposed she was lucky she and Alistair were able to be accommodated with a room inside the Crossroads inn.

It had been a little less than a moon to get here from Winterfell. The carriage broke several times and delayed the party for atleast a day almost everytime. It was wonder the king ever got to Winterfell in the first place.

Once at the Neck, the man driving the carriage completely and stupidly ignored the directions the cannogmen Lord Reed had assigned to guide them had given him and almost ran it into a nest of lizard-lions. Several of the men had to pull it out backwards.

She was surprised at their temporary accommodation. She was lucky to get a hearth in their room. Jon, Zevran, Ohgren didn't have one in their shared room downstairs. The king had someone see to her room placement personally. She's not sure if the interest the king had taken with her would be a good or bad thing yet. They would just have to wait and see.

In any case, they would only be stopping for a few days to rest halfway through before continuing on the Kingsroad to the capital. They wouldn't have stopped for so long if it hadn't started raining the night before and still hasn't let up. Her party had traveled longer distance in drastically shorter times with light and extreme weathor. At times she had thought they weren't going as efficient as they could several times but compared to the kings party...she supposed they weren't trying to save an entire country but still it was quite sad.

"Did you know this Inn's name has changed at least four different times since it was created?" Wynne remarked from where they were curled up in front of the sofa in front fo the hearth. Arya sat staring and wrapped in a blanket at the flames with a book she found on Westerosi plants and herbs. Wynne was quite contorted for her age on the large sofa they were louging on. She was reading from a history book on the Riverlands focusing on the Tullys rise to power. It was quite an interesting read and even included their part in Aegons conquest. They had traded books earlier once they finished with the ones they bought from a trader. Her direwolf, Wolf loughed beneath her, snoring.

"I noticed it changed but I hadn't realized it changed four times."

"Such history here..." her voice fading away as she continued to read. Arya brought her blanket further up and situated herself deeper in the cushions. She was beginning to show even with her thicker dresses now. She supposed she couldn't have hid it if she was planning to staying in Kings Landing anyway. The baby would be here in just less than half a year now. Even that time ago now she hadn't thought it possible. Everything had changed so quickly over the past year.

She wondered when her husband would be back from hunting. Al was invited almost everytime the king wanted to hunt now since he helped the prince kill that fat elk.

What were they hunting again? Aurochs... wasn't it? Darn this child stealing her memory. She huffed and closed her book loudly. Wynne raised an eyebrow at her display of frustration.

"I want this babe out of me." She complained crossing her arms and simultaneously pulling her balcket up to her chin.

"You're barely pregnant. Just wait for when you're to fat to see your feet!" Wynne chucked at her and continued reading her book. She glanced out the window to see a mostly clear sky. Maybe a walk would do her nicely. She heard the Ruby Ford was beautiful she supposed she could go there.

"I'm going for a walk by the river." She told her friend with a matter of a fact voice.

"Have a nice walk, your majesty." Wynne replied in a voice laced in light humor.

"Come, wolf...maybe I should give you a name?" The wolf stretche and followed after. She was almost as large as Ghost. She came up almost to her upper chest. She scratched her on the chin the wolf's tongue lagged out.

She and the wolf walked unbothered through the inn. Several men and guards were around keeping stock. Their eyes leered until they caught side of her companion immediately looked anywhere but her. She sighed, men she thought she supposed they were the same everywhere. She supposed she couldn't be too judgemental she had traveled with quite a few men that loved to talk about women. Two of them were still with her now. Though Zevran does not talk so much anymore. She knows Jon wouldn't approve of his behaviors.

"My lady, can I ask where you are going?" The captain of her father's guard asked her as she left the inn. He was stood with several other Stark men in arms who pretended respectfully not to hear their conversation. She thinks his name might be Ser Jory Cassel. The same name as the knight that drew a sword to avoid having to drink darkspawn blood. She wonders if he would have survived the joining if he had agreed to participate. Would he still be here now or would he have died with all the other grey wardens at Ostagar? Would she have found him with Riordian?
"I am simply going for a walk along the Trident, ser." She moved to walk past him but he once again stopped her.

"Lady Arya Lord Stark would have me flogged if I let you walk off and get lost." The 'again' didn't need to be said, but she already had a protector.

"My wolf will protect me, won't you girl?" She rubbed the wolfs ears as the wolf stared at her. The wolf was certainly intelligent but a wolf wouldn't bark in acknowledgement like Snow would.

"Still, my lady, this area is dangerous and bandits and vagabonds could take yiu by suprise."

What about Ser Avaline? The first female Chevaliar of Orlais. Such a tale as hers is admirable. A human girl abandoned at birth and raised by the Dalish and then signed up at a tourney disguised as a man for back then female chevaliers and fighting as a woman was prohibited or looked down upon in Orlais. After she was unmasked by Ser Kaleva he killed her. He was embarrassed to lose to a woman and so he killed her to earn back his honor. Prince Freyan who was defeated by her ealier recognized her metal and when he was crowned emporer he abolished the law prohibited women to become chevaliers and posthumously knighted Ser Avaline. She actually learned about Ser Avaline in the Black Marshes back in Amaranthine.

"What do think of the name Ser Avaline, Ser Jory?" He was taken back for a moment before answering.

"Well, I can't say I know it."

"You wouldn't, it is a tale of tragedy and chivalry. Do you want to hear it?"

"I'm not sure..." he seemed confused and his words trailed off. His feet shifted uneasily.

"If you are my guard, I can tell you it as we walk?" She smiled and she could tell he was thinking about it. Few could resist her charms she thought jokingly.

"Alright, let me inform my men. One moment please, my lady." He walked off in the direction of another man of rank that she hadn't had the chance to get their name.

"What do you think of Avaline?" The wolf wagged her tail and lolled her tongue out. Hopefully she understood that. Ser Jory walked back to her.

"Ready to go, my lady?"

"Are you, ser?" He seemed taken aback again but responded with a yes. He tried his best to walk behind her but she just walked slower until he couldn't move at all and finally relented. Avaline ran off as soon as she saw trees.

"That is certainly a tragic tale." Ser Jory responded once she finished explaining the name.

"It can be, but I believe it is more inspiring than sad."

"She got knighted but it was years after her death. She died for barely more than naught." He told her confused at her conclusion.

"She knew the risks of joining the tourney yet she did anyway. She did not do it just for knighthood. She proved that women could fight to the prince even if she didn't know it then. She joined to prove that she was stronger than all who doubted her and her death and life made waves for all."

"I-didn't think of it like that."

"Few do."

For the place that made the end of the Targaryen dynasty possible it didn't look like much. The green fork of the trident where Robert Baratheon slew Prince Rhaegar and cemented the Rebels' victory. She had traveled to a great many places in her lifetime mostly over the past two years still she was surprised at how much blood the ground can soak up and still bloom. Life always finds a way.

It was on the edge of the stream when hse saw him. A boy maybe her age maybe younger. He had reddish hair that was covered in sweat from the crude wooden sword he swung wildly. He was on the heavier side and he attempted to be as fast as possible but he slowed down with every erratic movement.

He spooked when he saw her and he huffed out an apology, "malady I can leave-"

"No worry, ser. This is your land after all. I'm only a visitor." She gave him a smile hoping to alleviate his fear yet he only seemed embarrassed.

"I'm no ser, I'll never be one." He was sullen and the pink of his cheeks had reached his ears.

"My lady-" Ser Jory attempted to steer her away from the boy.

"Certaintly not with that attitude. Or that form."

"Malady?" He was surprised by her words but he was curious.

"You should work on your strength rather than your speed. With your weight you can crush your opponents easily."

"But how would I get stronger? I have no equipment."

"You don't need anything to gain strength. What is your craft?"

"My father's the butcher-I help him, malady." She thought for a moment before she had an idea.

"Animals are heavy, but they are hard to work with. Do you have a shoulder yoke?"

"Yes, malady."

"After you gather the water for the day fill it with as many rocks as you can life. It is better to start with less and add more once you get stronger."

"Yes-malady, I will go right now." He seemed genuinely excited at the prospect and immediately ran off seemingly to do as she instructed. Hopefuly he would keep up with the task and become strong. It could mean life or death one day.

"How dare you run into me!" She heard anymore awfully familiar voice filled with all the audacity of a prince.

"I'm-so sorry! Your highness please! Forgive me!" He mumbled more apologies that slurred together but none eased the princes ire. She picked up the hem of her dress and hurried her pace up the path. Ser Jory clanked after her.

"Your highness, forgive him please, it was my fault." If the prince was caught off guard by her sudden appearance he didn't show it. Her sister did. She stood warily behind him with a concerned face at the scene.

"This peasant should be flogged in the streets for assaulting me!"

The butchers boy still laid on the ground and he let out a whimper at the prince's tone. She placed herself infront of the boy hoping the prince would see reason. A distant voice in her head reminded herself cruelty would never see reason as little more than obstacle. One she knew well.

"Your highness, he's just a stupid peasant he is only a waste of your time."

"I will decide what is a waste of my time, Lady Arya." He sneered her name as if it had personally offended him.

"Pick your sword up, boy." He drew his sword and pointed it past Arya. Sansa slowly backed away and ran back to the path they came from hopefully for some help.

"But...but its just a stick, your-highness!" The butchers boy stuttered over his words and curled into himself afraid of the prince. She saw Prince Joffrey eyes glimmered in delight. He was a cruel and vile boy.

She looked back to where Ser Jory stood he had a wide stance and his hand on his sword. She saw the determined and resolute look in his eyes. It was clear what he was going to do. It would he suicide to attack the prince yet he would do it to protect her. She couldn't leave the boy to be killed by the prince and she couldn't let too loyal for his own good knight take the fall either...

She never had to make this choice because the second the prince stsrted advance with his sword out at her Avaline launched her self at him with a growl. He let out a very unprincely scream and started crying. His sword clanked to the ground away next to her.

"Avaline! Down!" The wolf immediately stopped and backed off of the boy her eyes held intelligence and anger. It wa clear all she wanted to do was sink her teeth into the boy that tried to hurt her.

"Come. Sit." The dire wolf came and sat next to her. Her huge form coming to her shoulders almost. It was a miracle she hadn't broken him. Joffrey looked at her with the same terror the butcher boy had. He let out meek whine of pain and cradled his bleeding wrist to his chest.

"You should run," she didn't need to say anything more to the boy he scrambled to his feet quickly and was running before he was even standing. Stick forgotten on the ground. Maybe it was for the best she never got his name.

"Arya!" Her father shouted as he surveyed the scene before him. He had several uncertain guards that fidgeted behind him. Sansa hadn't come back with them, but she must have found their father.

"Prince Joffrey is injured, father. You should have someone see to his wounds first." Arya explained cooly. Her father signaled to his men to assist the prince and he was hauled away by them. The prince staggered and shuddered. Was this the first time he was told no? Or the first time he'd seen his own blood? He certainly hadn't expected her to stand in his way, but still the way he looked at him...it unsettled her. He had the eyes of Rendon Howe. The man with cruel pinched eyes that had a room close to the torture chambers. Who had slaughtered her family and people who had opened their castle to them. She still remembered little Oren so young and so small that the sword he was ran through with nearly cut him in half. Orianna who had tried to protect him and got thrown against the wall and a sword to the stomach. A slow and painful death.

"Arya, you're crying..." she hadn't realized how lost she was in her memories until her father's hand wiped away one of her tears. Avaline whined at her and nuzzled her hand.

"I'm...fine." she wiped her tears away and strolled down the path past the guards. She knew her father and Avaline were following her but at that moment she just needed to be away from that place. That memory...Maker give her strength...

------

"Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life!" Queen Cersei shouted as he shoved his way through the crowd. Many were straining to hear and see the argument between the King and his new hand. Well more like an argument between Lord Stark and the Queen.

"She tried to kill me by setting that beast on me!" He finally reached the center where his wife, goodfather, and goodsister stood. Arya had an enraged expression on her face as she stood defiant. Her father looked equally mad but he maintained his icey composure. His goodsister seemed on the verge of tears yet her jaw set in a familiar angry way. Guess they did have some similarities.

"I heard you got it trouble..." he murmured to her when snuck to her side.

"Of course not, everything is just peachy isn't it?" She remarked with her icey tone without any hint of humor.

"Ser Alistair can't you control your wife?" King Robert's voice was exasperated and he looked only slightly less drunk than usual. Maker save anyone that tried to control Arya, he thought mirthlessly.

"Your grace, I've only just gotten back from the hunt, I'm still unaware of what's happened." He kept his voice carefully level to hide his true thoughts.

"What's happened is your wife set her beast upon my son for defending himself from a peasant!" The queen yelled over her husband before he could even answer him.

"It was an accident he didn't mean to run into him, your grace." Arya argued in defense. Arya and her selflessness once again. One of the reasons he fell in love with her was her kindness and empathy to all but sometimes he just wished she thought for her own well-being. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

"You can't defend yourself from a peasant boy and a pregnant woman?" The king questioned coldly to his son. His wife laid a protective hand on her stomach as if the words could hurt her. Alistair grabbed her hand and squeezed. Her eyes darted back to him a soft gratefull smile on her lips. He gave her an encouraging smile in return.

The prince surprised mumbled excuses only served to make the king angry and there was little warning when he strikes his own son. The queen let out an anguished cry of alarm as she wrapped her barely adult son in arms. Gasps of suprise were let out as the crowd watched in trepidation for the kings next act. Even he could recognize the murderous look the queen gave her husband. Makers breath the last thing they need is a vengeful mother's ire.

"I will punish the stupid boy myself and as you should for your own daughter, Ned. Just get those wolves under control."

"Thank you, your grace." Lord Stark's tone was exceedingly polite and only served to remind the queen who started this in her eyes. She leveled them with a fiery look in her eyes and with all the pride she still held in her she led her son away without another word to the king.

It was hard not to feel bad for the prince even if he was an ass. It wasn't hard to figure out how he turned out that way from an at best negligent father and a whatever the queen has going on. He's still unsure of westeros in general but the politics are even worse here than back home. He wasn't raised to be king and thus his schooling was pretty lackluster. It wasn't like they taught templars to think more 'evil equals mages' and 'kill apostates' at the chantry. So his schooling came after the landsmeet and still continues to this day. Luckily Arya was trained on how to rule not just a keep but a kingdom as well. He still wasn't sure of how he felt when he learned that Arya was unofficially bethrothed by his father to marry Cailan but everyone knew that the king's disappearance gave his newly crowned half-brother the ability to marry his childhood love instead of her. Sometimes he wonders what would Fereldan look like with King Maric still on the throne...

"Are you all right, my love?" He asked once everyone realized the display was over and were now shuffling out awkwardly.

"I am now, Al." She let out a relieved breath as the attention on her faded. He pulled her hand still enter laced with his up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She laughed softly at his gesture and she reached up to kiss him on the lips. Alistair's love for her still as strong as the day he gave her that rose.

A giggle from beside them broke them out of their shared moment and they both turned to the side. Sansa's face was turning red underneath the hands she slapped to her face when she let out the laugh. Lord Stark on the other hand had a content look on his face and nodded his head when he noticed his staring.

"It's getting late, shall we?"

--------

When her father warned her of the smell she had thought it exaggerated but the second the giant keep came in view of the road so did the heinous small of feces and sickness. She had thought the alienage was bad. Her and Alistair had to rebuild the district from the ground up practically after the battle while many lives were lost that day in the destruction it gave many a chance to rebuild better. She and him had painstakingly personally saw many of the changes in sanitation and structure of the district as it is rebuilt. It hadn't actually been as badly hit as the rest of the city as most of the darkspawn attacking there arrived after they did. Despite that the alienage poor upkeep brought massive challenges to the rebuilding. It was hard and the alienage was still the poorest part of the city but it was getting better. Especially with their 'bleeding hearts' as Eamon likes to say.

"King's Landing is beautiful, your grace." Sansa complimented, ever the polite lady. Arya knew her courtesies well but the queen couldn't go one minute without shooting her a glare so venomous it could make a Chanter stutter the words of Andraste.

"How polite you are, little dove." She resisted the urge to sigh out loud at her insincere words. She personally asked for both her and her sister to ride in the carriage and she had the gall to act the hypocrite? She was now almost six moons along so the carriage was a welcome rest from riding but not even that little reprise made enduring the Queen more than necessary worth it.

At least Mrycella was a welcome face she quite enjoyed the young princess. She was strangly sweet and genuine so much unlike her mother and much quieter than her boastful father.

"What are you going to name him?" She asked while holding her hand with an almost reverent look in her eyes as she squealed in glee when the baby kicked her hand.

"Why does everyone assume it's a boy? I'm absolutely sure it's a girl." She told her friend resolute. She giggled again and retracted her hand.

"Did you know they think your belly shape could determine the sex?"

"Really? What do you think my shape would be?" She questioned. Her friend pondered the question deep in thought before answering. It was still suprising her how open and genuine the princess was.

"Well, I'd say you carry pretty low but your bump is pretty wide...they say if you carry high it's a girl and low could mean a boy but they also say a rounder bump means a girl while wider means a girl.."

"I suppose that means it's pretty split then?" She joked earning another giggle from the princess.

A knock sounded from the outside as the driver leaned in and announced into the carriage, "we're entering the city now, your grace." He told the queen then immediately closed the window again. Smart decision, she lamented.

"I can't wait to show you all the amazing sights here!"

"I look forward to his very much, your highness." She didn't need to pretend to be interested.

"Please, Lady Arya, we're friends now and my friends must simply call me Myrcella!" She said friends as if the taste of the word was unfamiliar to her. Maybe it was. Arya can't really imagine a girl so kind and honest faring well with southern flattering and veiled words.

"Then you must call me Arya, Myrcella." The princess smiled widely again and nodded her head enthusiasticlly.

Outside the carriage she could hear the parade awaiting them. She and Myrcella pressed their faces to the beautifully carved wooden windows of the carriage. The spaces in between were small but even on the gaps they could see the people lined up on the streets watching.

It reminded her of her wedding. Her and Alistair had sat in a white open chariot as they rode through the streets of Denerim. The people clapped and threw flowers for them merrily. She waved to them as properly as she could letting her excitement and joy seep out. In return for their efforts in saving their lives and most of their city they people had loved them. They sang praises even when she wished they wouldn't. Even when she and her husband had visited their people on a normal day they cheered and welcomed them wholeheartedly.

She saw none of this on the streets in Kings Landing. Here men, woman and children stared and stood warily. They waved stiffly as if swords were pressed into their backs. It reminded her of Haven. The village high in the mountains that their very presence could mean death. She had killed most of the cultists in the temple, but their was still regular people that held their breath as they left.

Children ran amuck between the soldiers marching and the knights utop their horses cried out in alarm to stop them. Luckily the children were fast and got away from them she saw their little hands grab coins and items out their bags. She realized they were desperate. They were starving...the Tyrells controlled most of the food in Westeros...hopefully they would come for her father's tourney.

She caught her sister's eye and she quickly shook her head as if she knew what she was focused on. The queen watched the outside with a bored expression as if she didn't have sympathy for the starving children. Her daughter on the other hand watched with a concerned face. She would be a good queen, a good lady in an honorable world. Caring got gentle people like her killed in their world.

Alistair was waiting for her when they finally reached the Red Keep's courtyard.

"My lady?" He offered his hand with a mischievous smile. She took his hand happily, "how gallant of you, my knight." When she was stable on the ground he bowed with a flourish.

"Aren't you two from a song." Ser Jaime Lannister taunted as if he was complimenting him from the sidelines. He moved to help his twin sister down. She didn't seem very grateful for it and scoffed at him. She waved him off and walked off with her two younger children in tow. Myrcella gave him a apologetic look as she followed after her mother. Prince Tommen had slept most of his time away in the carriage and he yawned as he followed after his mother. The boy was young and seemed kind just a bit less...observant than his sister. Ser Jaime's face fell at the rejection but upon noticed them staring he covered it up with an arrogant shrug and walked off the opposite direction of his twin. Tension between the Golden Twins? How interesting, she thought thinking of how she can use it.

"Plan later, bathe first." Her husband interrupted his thoughts as he suddenly started pulling her toward the keep. She hopes he thinks to ask for their guest quarters first.

After a slight setback, they were directed to rooms in the Hand's Tower and after several more negotiations they finally had a shared room. Sansa was in the room to their left with Septa Mordane and Wynne in smaller connected rooms to hers. Wynne refused to room in the connected room of hers. Technically Wynne had only slightly smaller room than her sisters while the Septa had a much smaller room than the others. She didn't seem to mind atleast.

Zevran and Jon were rooming together while Ohgren was...somewhere. She thinks he might be rooming with one of the guards strange as that was he made quite a few friends with all the guards even with the Lannisters and Baratheon men as well. She wondered how crass the men must be to handle Ohgren. And room with him. She still remembers having to subtly cycle the dwarf warriors tent around to keep him from getting assassinated by their offended companions.

It was a chore to say the least.

It was late into the evening when her father reminded her of the Hand's Tourney soon.

She was exhausted from all the delays and had added an extra fortnight onto their trip solely because of the many wheelhouse repairs.

The good thing about Kings Landing is she could finally wear lighter dresses. The bad thing was she hadn't exactly planned for coming to King's Landing and thus had very few clothes suitable to the southern climate. She was exhausted and the babe in her belly was particularly restless so she asked her father to see if he could get her dresses much to his suprise. He atleast promised to do it and he told her he'd find one for her for tomorrow. She'd ask Alistair but he doesn't have an eye for fashion at all...it was genuinely terrifying what he tried to buy her for the celebration of their first year of marriage.

Of course her father would have to find looser dresses to fit her growing belly but his wife had five kids she's sure he knows what to do. Hopefully.

-----

Winterfell was boring now. Ever since his father and half of his siblings packed up and left for Kings Landing and left him behind because of his injury. His ankle and head healed before they ever got notice his father's party arrived safely. Rickon was fun but his brother preferred the company of his wolf more than his and it felt more like he was chasing him then they were bonding. He missed Jon. Jon could always get Rickon to be more human. But Jon had left again.

He hoped Arya kept her promise. If she did she would make him a knight! The grey wardens sounded cool from her stories he wondered if she could make him one.

Robb and mother always seemed busy with their many duties now. Half of Winterfell had left with his father after all. The staff was slowly filling up again.

There was one body who wasn't to busy for him. He twisted his fingers on Summer's thick fur the direwolf sighed in contentment and adjusted his head to lay on his huge paws better. He was in the library reading not one of Winterfells many books but one Lady Wynne had given him.

Lady Wynne reminded him of Old Nan before her death last year. He wished she could have seen Jon and Arya return. His vision went blurry and he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the tears out with his fingers. He was almost a man and men did not cry. He missed her calling him 'summer child' and telling him the stories of old. She was one of the few people that understood his love for climbing, especially the heart tree. When she was alive and he woke in drenched in sweat with strange raven's cawing and fire everywhere. The night terrors have only gotten worse with her gone. Fire and ice fight together and against eachother, while dogs bark at dragons. Strangely it's the dogs who always bring their enemies down. It only makes him more afraid, when the dogs and their blood covered mauls turned towards him. They stand still for only a second before their upon him. He never gets the chance to scream it's over before it starts.

"Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?"

"That is the only time a man can be brave."

His father had once told him that right after he chopped the head off of a deserter. He was afraid a lot but never brave. It's why he needs to be a knight. If he's a knight he has to be brave, he swore vehemently. If he's brave the dreams will dissapear like mist. Never to plague him again.

The smell of pungent smoke reached his nose. He looked down confused to the book in his hands on fire. His eyes widened in surprise and he threw the burning book to the floor and stomped wildly. His sudden action and terror sent Summer bounding back in shock. Sorry, boy.

He picked up the now ash filled book to inspect the damage. Most of the pages had burned away quickly and the ash they made covered the air in a dusty grey haze. Gods, his head hurt. He fell back to the floor as the dust and smoke permeated his lungs. He coughed weakly and tried to push his slugish limbs to stand up again but fell back with a crash. The last thing he heard was a heartbreaking howl...from Summer?

--------

The next morning she makes up feeling much better than the previous day. The baby isn't nearly as active as they were yesterday. It's still dark outside and Alistair is still lightly snoring. His arms are wrapped tightly around her and are starting to get constrictive and much to warm. As soon as she slips herself out of his arms he grabs a pillow in her place. The large opulent room was empty otherwise. With various spy holes and secret passages notwithstanding. Snow wasn't here. He had followed them to their room, right?

She places a kiss on his forehead as buried himself back under the blankets sleepily. She chucked softly at her husbands antics as she slipped on the soft robe she had pulled from her pack before she went to bed earlier. She had retired early to bed and it was no wonder she couldn't sleep any longer. Now that she was out of bed and at the windows she could see the sun beginning to rise over the Red Keep. Where would Snow have gone? Lady was with Sansa and Avaline had been playing with Ghost last night she must be with Jon...could Snow have found them?

From the balcony she could see the gardens and the servants rising for their early duties. Back in Highever, she would rise early to watch the Sunset over the Waking Sea with Orianna. If only she'd been faster she could have saved them. No, Arya! Now is not the time to get lost ik horrible memories. She is a Stark of Winterfell by blood, a Cousland of Highever by law, and Theirin of Denerim by marriage. She would not let herself be pulled under the waves of grief again. Find Snow.

Surprisingly she was able to dress by herself. It was a fair bit warmer than it had been so a lighter dress was better. She wore a light blue dress with a deeper blue outer layer starting from above her waist and went to her ankles. Her sleeves were wide and rounded at the top that slimmed into her wrists without excess fabric. She put her Stark sigil necklace back on from her jewelry where she stored it to avoid losing it.

Her husband was still snoring when she left but he'd realize she was gone soon enough. Where ever her hound had gotten off to she would find him. Snow was smart, but the Red Keep was a maze and death contraption with all the soldiers milling about. The halls themselves were hard to navigate already and with all the secret entrances and passageways he could get lost easily.

She didn't need to walk far to get to Zevran and Jon's door. She knocked a few times but after waiting and hearing no response she pounded on the door.

Finally, Zevran made it to the door and opened it with blinking eyes and a yawn, "is there a reason you are bothering me at the crack of dawn?" He asked vaguely annoyed but curious.

"Sorry Zev, but have you seen Snow?" He blinked again and turned around to look.

"Well, I thought he was here..."

"Go back to bed, Zev. I'll find him." He looked ready to argue with her then changed his mind and bid her goodbye.

Now where to start?

Mayhaps he wanted to stretch his legs in the garden, she thought.

The barking of a dog and the yelling and cursing of a man drew her attention when she passed the gardens threshold. She had gotten turned around a few times in the dark and maze of the halls but she could hear the noises and followed them.

Snow was barking at Sandor Clegane 'the Hound'. She hadn't ever actually talked to the man, but she had heard of the crown princes 'disfigured hound' and that'srhe nicer way they described him. His entire right side of his face was badly burned and she wondered if he could see out of his right eye. It looked as if he was freshly burned...it looked angry like it was infected. She had burns from dragon flame but none of them looked like that. He was pushing and cursing at the dog that barked and jumped on him. Snow must have smelled the infection and from the way he was jumping and pulling he must be trying to lead the man back to her like he did for her companions. Living on the road and fighting for your life everyday made festering wounds hard to heal and a dog that could sniff early stages and alert people of them was a boon. Well for them atleast.

"Mangy mutt! GET OFF ME!" Clegane struggled in vain to dislodge the stubborn warhound.

"Snow. Off." The knight was so distracted by his attacker he hadn't even realized she had come up behind me. Snow immediately got off of him and ran to her tail wagging and tongue wagging.

"Sit." He sat.

"I greatly apologize, ser-"

"I'm no ser." He grunted out as he found his bearings again, "shitty mutt..." he muttered and made to stomp off but she stopped him.

"Wait, please-Clegane, I believe he was trying to help you." Snow barked as if he was agreeing.

"Help? That cunt was trying to take a chunk out of me!"

"And I apologize that he was enthusiastic but he is trained to detect infection and wounds. He was only trying to lead you for healing."

The man's nostrils flared and he practically growled, " this-wound-is almost three decades old."

"But it still hurts, correct? I believe i have something for it." The man was hard to convince but she wasn't anything but stubborn and persuasive. She finally dragged him back to the hands tower and left him in the common room while she grabbed her bag full of supplies.

He looked incredibly uncomfortable stsndkng awkwardly in the common area and he looked ready to flee from the castle if she took to long. She instructed him to sit on the seat and he did so even more awkwardly and unsure.

She first grabbed one of her greater warmth balms out and one of the potent poultices out.

"What is that?"

"It's a balm, it will calm the wound." To calm the flighty man down she told him rhe ingredients even though he only balked at her.

Once it dried into his skin and the wound was less red she also added the poultice and instructed him to come back in the evening and that she will find him if he doesn't. He tried to argue but she knew how to deal with boorish insensitive drunkards.

It seemed she'd have to investigate the maester here...even if he rejected treatment from him he should atleast have given him a soothing balm to lessen the pain and the redness. Any half decent healer could make that. Any 'grand-maester' should be able to detect poison...if her aunt was right...hmm, she pondered.

Chapter Text

The dress her father had gotten her was a beatiful conservative blue and gold. A dark blue with interlocking golden threads running through the sleeves and down to her ankles. They were almost vine like but uniquely differnet to the Cousland wreath. Unfortunately it was a straight dress with no over skirt making her expecting belly obvious to the world, she thought annoyed.

"Oh come on, most everyone already knows, please the king practically shouted it to the entire riverlands!" Her husband reminded her unneededingly.

"That doesn't mean we should shout it to every kingdom in the seven kingdoms!" He rolled his eyes and she swatted his arm for the slight.

"Hey!"

"I saw that!" She swatted him again just for the fun of it much to his chagrin, "Can I not be worried of the baby? We already have reason to suspect Lord Arryn was poisoned..." the more they learned of the sudden steep decline of his good health the more it became clear, but the why and the who were still undiscernible.

"Of course you can, but this could be helpful."

"Helpful? In what way, dear?" She asked confused.

"Grandmaester Pycelle is someone you wanted to investigate, correct?"she nodded," then a nervous first time expecting mother would certainly ask a lot of questions."

"That's perfect, Alistair!"

"I have my moments." Alistair laughed and offered his arm.

"Shall we, my lady?"

Her father and sister were waiting in the commen area for them.

"You look beautiful, Arya." Her father smiled with a strained look in his eye.

"Thank you, father. You look in better health."

"Endless horseriding and hunting is for the young man." He told her waving his hand in Alistair's direction. She laughed at Alistair's dismayed expression.

Soon enough they left the tower and headed to the Small Hall not far away. It was a long and wide hall with large and bright windows. There was a long table set up in the middle. A few men were already sitting at the table and they rose upon their entry.

"Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and Hand to the King." The man at the entrance echoed loudly pronouncing to the measly people gathered.

"Lord Stark." The bald headed man in long robes smelling of striking flowery perfume gripped her fathers hand with both of his as he shook his hand.

"Lord Varys." he greeted with a blank tone. The Spider, she assumed. The Master of Whispers and litte birds.

"I was greivously sorry to hear if your troubles on the Kingsroad. We are all praying for Prince Joffrey's full recovery." He continued on," and your daughters as well." He glanced at her with a pointed look to her widening stomach. She rubbed an uneasy hand over the baby protectively.

"A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butchers son." He answered a momentarily surprised expression appeared on Lord Varys as he stepped away.

"Renly." Her father called out the youngest Baratheon brother and Master of Laws, Lord Renly of Storms End.

"You're looking well." She didn't catch the rest of the interaction because the Spider intercepted her.

"Lady Arya, I must say how much alike you look to your aunt, Lady Lyanna." She didn't let her grimace be seen," you flatter me, Lord Varys."

"And you Lady Sansa, are your mother's mirror image." The only other man not addressing her father at the moment, Lord Baelish of the Fingers and Master of the Coin. He complimented her sister with a lustfull look in his eye. She recalled his nickname 'Littlefinger' he was a whoremonger and own several brothels throughout Kings Landing. A wonder how he got that name, she thought mischievously.

"Thank you, my lord." Her sister was uncomfortable but still a proper lady. They were ushered to their seats by servants soon after.

Her father sat to the right of where the king had sat. His eldest son to his left and Sansa seated next to him. Making Arya directly across from her. Sansa tried in vain to capture his attention but he ignored her. Myrcella sat next to Sansa and after her the Queen. Prince Tommen sat next to his mother. Alistair sat infront of the Queen and was engaged in conversation with Lord Renly next to him. Lord Baelish was on the other side of Lord Renly with Lord Varys across from him. Maester Pycelle was absent she noted. So was Jon but he snuck off with Zevran to 'investigate'. She would so be making fun of him when he gets back.

"The tourney must be grand, Ned! It's in your honor!" The king argued in favor for the exorbitant rewards and listings.

"It doesn't matter who it's for we can't afford it!" The lord hand whisper yelled at his friend," we are six million gold dragons in debt. You can't just throw money everywhere you want!" It was honestly horrifying how badly things were taken care of here. Fereldan had been practically decimated but debt was minimal and shrinking everyday. How could they let it get this bad?

"What do you want me to do, Ned? We can't just have no reward. We already have knights and sell swords and green boys clamoring in from everywhere." She did hear the City Watch was struggling with keeping the king's peace.

She should speak to Ohgren about helping them for awhile with her father's men he loaned them. It would give him a unique opportunity to observe the city's inner workings.

"Do you know what the most expensive thing in this whole castle, in Fereldan is?"

"Food?"

"Men. Think about it, good quality armor and weapons must be created and maintained. Men must be fed and payed. They must be trained and disciplined, it all costs money, Arya. Not to mention what it takes to earn true loyalty."

One of the many wisdoms from her mother.

"I've heard you have another brother, on the small council aswell?" She asked Lord Renly once her father and King Robert were properly entranced. His face immediately turned questioning, "yes, Stannis, Master of Ships and Lord of Dragonstone. Why do you ask?"

"Well I was quite curious of his exploits on the sea." She answered truthfully.

"Ah well, the Greyjoy Rebellion was the only time he actually commanded the fleets but I suppose it was a decisive victory when he smashed the Iron Fleet to bits." Lord Renly looked amused at her inquiries. The only man on the small council her father was glad to see...he would be a good ally to have.

"And with minimal casualties to our side." He looked ready to say something more but Alistair interupted him," will you be fighting in the tourney, Lord Renly?"

"I will be jousting, will you be there, ser?"

"Of course, I've already signed up for both the melee and the jousting. I was wondering if you could give me tips on our competition?"

"Possibly I could...if you could tell me yours?"

Breakfast was over all a quiet affair. The queen gave her snide looks the entire meal, of course but that was to be expected and thus uneventful. Her sister was thoroughly dejected by the prince. She would need to offer her support later. Sansa was older but Arya was more...worldly.

Father was a good man for shielding his children from the injustices of the world but everyone must grow up at some point.

She also took care to notice the looks Lord Baelish gave her sister. She would have to question father on him later he seemed to...familiar with them than she'd like.

Her next order of business was to see the old Maester Pycelle.

-----
The hidden passageways of the Red Keep were long and suffocating.

"Have no fear, my friend, I know exactly were I am going!" Zevran reassured him for the fifth time as they explored the hidden depths built by Maegar the Cruel. Jon was really starting to doubt him...

"If we get stuck down here I'm eating you first!" Zevran laughed nervously at that.

Eventually the passage lead out to a dusty cavern. How nice...

"This is what you wanted to show me?" He stepped further into the cavern but it was dark and dusty. It felt humid and hot.

"No, of course not, my dear," he grabbed a torch from the side and lit it with one of his matches,"follow me!" He led him to...

Dragon skulls?!

"How-how did you find this? What is this-" he asked stunned, "this, my darling, is your nameday gift," he fidgeted with his fingers, his nervous habit, Jon noted," do you like it?"

"I love it. Thank you." He grabbed Zevran's face and kissed him deeply. Zevran snaked around his hands around his waist.

"Ever have sex in a dragon's head before?" Zevran wiggldled his eyebrows and pointed his head to the largest skull in the cavern.

Balerion the Black Dread.

He laughed and let himself be led through the dragons giant jaws. He barely had to duck his head and Zev didn't need to at all.

They collided on the floor with Zevran on his back and Jon with one leg in between his. In their scuffle the torch hit the floor and was snuffed out by the dust.

Not like they needed light anyway. Zevran returned the kiss with fervor drawing Jon in closer. His hands greedly explored his chest searching for the hem to lift it off.

He stopped suddenly and pulled back, "Do your hear that?" Jon strained his ears but couldn't hear anything other than their heaving breathing.

"What-" Jon starts but Zevran puts a finger to his lips and peers out of the skull. Elves are supposed to have more heightened senses than humans even so he can vaguely make out a torch in the darkness. And two fat men? Their voices were mumbles and like they were speaking in tongues. After a moment they start walking deeper through the cellar further into the darkness.

"What was that about? Did you hear what they were saying?" He asked Zevran after they sat in the darkness for long enough they couldn't possibly be overheard by them.

"We've got to find Arya." His voice was more serious they he'd ever heard him before and it sent shivers down his spine.

-----

"Grandmaester Pycelle?" Arya called out into the quiet tower. She could see a wide door that led to one of the Red Keep's many libraries and two other doors. One was probably a door to his office and another to his private chambers. The one to the left of library and farthest from the entry was cracked slightly open.

The tower was deathly quiet. She walked to the desk in the front. The desk was covered in papers and an empty ink pot.

Strange...shouldn't servants have cleaned and replaced the pot by now?

There was a small bell attached to the wall near the desk. Where someone might ring to alert the maester if he was absent. The rope was aged but in surprisingly well condition. Few hands had ever pulled it before.

It made her uneasy. The ominous quiet, the lack of attendants, the obvious lack of a maester. She grabbed the rope with one hand and pulled.

Bang, Clank, Bang, Creek

She winced from the horrid sounds it made. Its echoes loud and old throughout the tower. Dust unsettled from the inside and swarmed in front of her vision. She backed away and stood further to the left of the desk and waited.

She still didn't hear any one making their way to her. She waited a few more moments before she called out again.

"Grandmaester?" Even her own voice sounded out loudly throughout the empty silence. She looked around again before steeling her nerves and approached the cracked door.

Immediately the unmistakable smell of death filled her nose. She struggled not to immediately vomit. She pushed herself to open the door. Her eyes were misty but she could see the body of the old maester propped up into the chair.

The body showed obvious signs of decay and he must have been dead since atleast yesterday. How could no one notice his disappearance? Flies buzzed around him and it was obvious he had been here for quite some time.

Blood coated the floor and dripped onto the table from the maesters open wound right where his heart was. A quick death or a silent one? Or both? His hand was still wrapped around a quil poised to write. Someone had to make a quick escape. Yet no footprints led to the door?

She glanced around searching for more clues. She skirted around the blood and stood infront of the bloody footprints that led to a wall. There was more blood on the empty metal torch holder.

A hidden passageway...

She couldn't investigate without disturbing the scene...her father would want to personally over see this...

She backed away carefully and stood at the entrance of the door.

She snucked in a deep breath and hoped.

She screamed a blood curling scream and immediately turned to run out the door.

"HELP! The Grandmaester-was-was murdered!" She screamed at the first guards to come running. Mummer's tears covered her face and she hiccuped loudly. Was wailing too dramatic? Possibly but her most promising lead was just silenced so she felt justified. She wailed and sobbed and collapsed onto the floor. The guards ran past her and up the towers stairs.

She doesn't know how long she sat there until her father came. She hadn't realized he was there as she slumped her head into her legs at some point.

"Arya?" His voice was desperate and worried and she realized she must look a mess right now.

"Its okay, you're okay. You're going today, sweetling..." her sobs had slowed awhile ago and her tears had stopped but she felt like sobbing all over again. She realized she wasn't pretending to shake and tremble anymore. Her fathers word had sounded so similar to her father's-Bryce Cousland-maker help her.

She slumped into his arms and cried real tears for the first time in almost three years.

-----

"How had no one noticed he was gone! He had been dead for almost a day when my daughter found him!" Ned had tried to control his anger but he just kept remembering the sight of Arya trembling against the wall from his mind. He never wanted his girls to have to see that. The dead were bad on a battlefield but a murder? According to his attendants they had been sent away before the kings party returned yesterday and hadn't seen the old maester since. No one had seen him until Arya went to talk with him and found him dead.

"My little birds are looking everywhere but even I am not all knowing, Lord Stark." Lord Varys's tone was as smug and pleased as it always was. Ned wanted to ring his neck and see what the spider would do when he couldn't weave webs anymore.

Seven hells...he is way to old for this.

"Pycelle was an elderly man what enemies could he even have?" Lord Renly questioned.

"ITS THE WORK OF THE DRAGONSPAWN!" Robert busted through the door shouting. The other council members jumped in suprise.

"Your grace?"

"Daenerys Targaryen! She's sending assassins after all of us!"

"Your grace, I can assure you Daenarys is only interested in Essos-"

"She's the mad king's daughter and she will come for my throne! She won't settle for Mereen or Yunkai or Astapor or her 'Dragon's Bay'," his words were laced with so much venom he spat as he raged, "what happens when she gets bored and turns those dragons on us?"

No one knew how to answer him. She had three dragons the same as the Conquerors. Would she return to the land of her birth and the iron throne? Or would she continue her liberation of the slaves of Essos? Last Ned heard she was still in Mereen and had just married one of sons of the old slave masters, Hizdhar zo Loraq, and was ruling as Queen but would she be content? She wasn't content with the Dothraki or Astapor...

And with three large dragons, young but growing fast.

Would Westeros be able to stand against that? Dorne would immediately join her and the Reach and many of the Crownlands lords were Targaryen Loyalists during the war. Between the accusations on the Lannisters from Lysa and now the murder of the grandmaester...

Gods help them all if she comes now.

-------

"Are you sure?"

"Completely." Zevran actually being serious was enough to convince her. If what he heard in the dungeons was correct then they had worse problems than the old maester. Or the dragon queen to the east.

Someone sowing conflict between the Starks and the Lannisters but for what reason? A Targaryen restoration? Someone's one agenda? The maester could be part of their plan. None of her family would have any reason to kill him but the Lannisters could have but why?

“Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern.” Alistair argued with a resolute look in his eyes.

"We won't let it be three." She promised mostly to her self. She couldn't lose her father right after getting him back. Not again, please.

"We won't, Arya. I promise." Alistair swore to her as he grabbed he hand and sealed his oath with a kiss.

"Right. Well we best get started then, lovebirds." Zevran snarked as he drew them out of their moment.

"I'll speak with father about this. See if the Lord Arryn and the maester had anything in common." Jon told them as he left.

"I'm going to spy on the Queen and her brat." Zevran declared and walked out onto the balcony. He waved happily as he jumped off.

"I'm going to offer my services to the guards then. Your father will be overseeing it, I hope," she gave him a chaste kiss goodbye as he left.

"Wynne, do you have an idea on what you what to do yet?" She asked once Al was out the door.

"Not yet," Wynne raised her eyebrow in question, "did you have something in mind?"

"Only a request, I ask that you stay close to me. I worry about the baby and while a new grandmaester will be sent for soon, I worry he will be just a untrustworthy as the last."

"Don't worry, my queen. I will not fail you." Wynne vowed with a solemn tone. They had kept the mechanics of the ritual to minimum still a mage as skilled and experienced as Wynne could easily recognize the ancient magic. A powerful mage and one blessed by a spirit would be instrumental in the days to come.

"I know you won't." Was it selfish to ask Wynne to do this? Absolutely, but she spent her entire life helping people and fighting dragons and demons and darkspawn so Maker forgive her if she can count her selfish actions on one hand.

--------

"What are you saying, Baelish?"

"I'm saying that im his final days Lord Arryn spent a lot of time in the brothels King Robert frequented. And we both know the kind of man Jon Arryn was."

"Bastards." Ned realized, "but why?"

"I'm still not sure. I only know of his visits because I own most of brothels he visited."

He still didn't trust the snake, but what choice did he have? Ned knew his wife had grown up with him but he also once dueled Brandon for her. He didn't doubt the man was still in love with her just with the way he talked about her that first day.

"I also happen to know that Pycelle had a contract with me." Ned lowered his eyes in suspicion.

"The secret entrance that the killer used to escape was also the way I sent my...employees to him through. He paid extra for privacy."

"The maester was one of the oldest men in Westeros."

"Most of the girls I sent him remarked on his uncanny stamina." He chuckled as if one could find any humor in the discussion of a man's murder.

Just then a knock came from the door. Baelish sent him a questioning look.

"Come in." He called out. The door opened and Jon and Alistair walked in.

"I'm sorry, my lords, I wasn't aware you were meeting." Alistair apologized while Jon stared at Baelish.

"You weren't interrupting, boys. Lord Baelish was just leaving." Ned leveled them man with a glare daring him to argue.

"Right, we should continue this conversation later, mayhaps-" Lord Baelish had walked to the door as he talked and had the door shut in his face by Jon.

"He was still talking."

"Good." Jon sauntered forward and sat in the now vacant chair infront of him. Ned sighed at his son's antics. He had always wanted Jon to get more confidence but purposely shutting a door infront of the master of coin despite how much he wanted to do worse to that leech wasn't a good idea. Especially for Jon.

"I didn't raise you to be so petty."

"He learned it from the best. Arya and me once argued right before dinner and I ended up working late into the night and when I finally made it back to bed our bed was gone."

"She told me about that. She had Sten put the bed into storage and slept in-" Alistair interupted with a cough and Jon immediately stopped. Ned guessed she had slept in one of her companions rooms and wouldn't want her father to know about it. If it was one of the ones that came with her he would guess Zevran. The man reminded him of the dornish and their relaxed views.

Arya was always the most wolf-blooded except for Rickon, no one could beat him. He had also seen how she looked at Alistair and how he looked at her.

A marriage where his children are supported and happy was all he could hope for them.

Even if her and Alistair were... unconventional. And Alistair looked to much like a Lannister than he really liked. If he didn't know how to recognize the Lannisters he'd guess he was one.

"While I thank you for your rescue from Baelish was there something you needed?"

After they explained what their conversation with Arya was and he told them of what he just learned.

"With the old maester dead they are postponing the hands tourney for a while but not long. Perhaps a fortnight at the most."

"I heard from Lord Renly that Jon Arryn's squire was recently knighted and will be participating in the jousting." Alistair supplied.

"Recently knighted?"

"And with am excellent new mount and freshly forged steel." Jon added.

"Sounds like somebody came in to a large sum of coins recently. I bet he knows something about Jon Arryn's death."

And was paid to keep quiet or he was directly involved ned thought.

"Jon will you talk to him?" Jon nodded in understanding. He would be more inconspicuous than young Jaime Lannister come again.

"For now I have funeral preparation to attend too but we should visit Baelish's brothel." Jon grimaced, "I hope I don't need to remind you are not there for pleasure."

"I'm a married man." Alistair reminded in disbelief.

"So was I." He regretted as soon as he said it. That was the lie after all. Alistair seemed surprised but nodded his head. Jon looked grim and resolved.

"I believe our conversation is over then." With a mumbled Lord Stark from Alistair left but Jon stayed seated.

"In Fereldan...I'm the bastard of the late Teryn Cousland." At his father's stunned expression he elaborated, "it can't be public knowledge that Arya isn't the blood daughter of the Couslands I...think they will tell you why when they're ready but i did tell everyone that she was my sister and several heard me mention being a bastard and-"

"And you didn't need to lie it was just assumed."

"Yes."

"Jon-I..."

"My mother...is she still alive?" His eyes were glistening and his voice tentative.

"I'm sorry-she passed shortly after the birth...Jon." his son hiccuped and covered his face in his hands. Ned instantly rose to move around the table.

"I think I always knew that she was gone..I just..." he pulled Jon's head into his chest and kissed his dark curls.

"I will tell you everything about your mother. After all of this is done and behind us and we can just talk, alright?" Jon nodded into his head and hiccuped again.

"Take all the time you need. I'm here, son."

-------

For an entire moon things were normal, for Westeros anyway.

The first week was the grandmaester's funeral and it was a fairly average affair. People came and gave their respects at the Sept of Baelor. Pycelle was laid to rest by the Silent Sisters and word was sent for a new grandmaester to be selected. The other acolytes prattled about arrogant or frightened.

The reason why the tourney was pushed so far back was because the political headache at the Citadel's conclave. Her father said there was worry about Tyrells gaining power from some of the council members.

In the end, Grandmaester Gorman previously of House Tyrell will now serve on the Small Council. She had seen the man but she hadn't yet met him. It was the day before the Grand Tourney when she actually met the Tyrells.

"And then he gave me a beautiful red rose and said it reminded him of me." She recounted to Myrcella and Sansa. Myrcella giggled and Sansa sighed dreamily. Arya was able to spring Sansa and her from the watchful eyes of Septa Mordane after she feigned a desperate need for fresh air.

After taking a few detours they ran into the princess strolling through the gardens with her kingsguard uncle and her septa.

She's even less sure of how they got onto the topic of her love story but she had recounted it best she could with much less blood and death. And a bit dumbed down as well.

That was when they met Margaery Tyrell.

"Such a beautiful story, Lady Arya." The girls immediately snapped their heads to the side to see a women dressed in blue and gold. She had deep brown hair and large brown eyes. She was certainly beautiful and with her low cut dress she was sure to turn heads. Upon their staring she immediately feigned embarrassment and bowed.

"Your highness, forgive me I was just so distracted by Lady Arya's lovely tale." A flatter then.

"It's quite alright, my lady?"

"Margeary of House Tyrell, your highness." Ah, the Rose of Highgarden. She heard her and her grandmother had traveled with her brother Ser Loras the Knight of Flowers. She also heard of the Queen of Thorns, the real power behind the Tyrells. She wondered if she would get to meet her.

"Ah Lady Margaery, we haven't had the pleasure to meet yet." One of the things she first noticed about Myrcella was her way of being overly polite and formal when she was nervous. Arya peered around to sneak a look at her sister but she was facing towards Lady Margaery.

"We must remedy that, yes? Please join me and my grandmother for tea!" Seems like she would be meeting the Queen of Thorns after all.

"Your highness, I believe your mother might be looking for you." Ser Jaime called out before his niece could respond.

"I do apologize, my ladies, excuse me, please enjoy yourselves." Myrcella released their arms and allowed them to curtsy as she walked away. She wished her mother had told her how hard curtsying was while heavily expecting.

"Please follow me!" If she was disappointed by the princess's timely escape she didn't show it.

"Neither of those are the princess." Said what could only be Ollena Tyrell. Thorns indeed.

"Grandmother!" Lady Margaery was scandalized. So was Sansa as she had turned bright red and Arya was afraid she might turn heads and run.

"I'm afraid not but I believed we were invited anyway?" Arya wondered aloud. The seasoned lady judged both her and her sister closely before sighing and pointing to the chairs.

"I must apologize for my grandmother-" was this a practiced operation? It certainly seemed so. They were good yes but a mummer knows a mummer. A handmaiden immediately came forward and poured steaming tea into the delicate cups by her and her sister's side.

"It is quite alright, my lady. It's quite a respite from all the fake flattery and mummers here." She stared down the Lady Margaery's smile over the tea cup she drank easily from.

"So how did you really survive all those miserable years in that hellish kingdom? I heard they have monsters prowling the countryside and a civil war every few years." Lady Tyrell remarked. Seems she was familiar with her country but how familiar?

"I thought it was quite a coincidence you and your husband shared the same names as the new monarchs of Fereldan." Sansa gasped and dropped her glass to the ground. It shattered and spilled tea and shards everywhere.

Lady Tyrell tutted and waved a servant to clean the mess, "excuse my sister, Lady Tyrell. She hasn't been at court long."

"Please, go take your shaking sister inside. We shall talk more later." She dismissed them as if their talk was of no importance. She grabbed her sister's arm again and pratically dragged her to her feet and out of the gardens.

"What was she talking about?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Don't lie to me I'm not that stupid!" Sansa suddenly pushed her away and stared accusingly at her. Arya opened her mouth to answer her but couldn't form her words and had to watch her sister storm off.

"Ah, the joys of sisterhood. I've always wondered if the stories were true." Zevran suddenly appeared beside her.

"Not helping." She mumbled without looking at him. He cleared his throat and she finally turned towards him in question.

"We should speak with your father."

-------

"Queen Cersei killed him? Are you sure?"

"She admitted it to her brother. I believe her words were 'So what if I killed that old perverted toad?' He didn't seem very happy about it but he didn't directly admonish her. Based on her ravings she was convinced he was spying on her."

His father sighed and buried his head in his hands. The queen had murdered the maester in cold blood. She was mad.

"Speak nothing of this." He told the group of Jon, Arya, Alistair, and Zevran. Ohgren had already reported on his finding of Janos Slynt's embezzling and negligence and left before Arya and Zevran had arrived.

"Have you spoken to Arryn's old squire?"

"I did. He knew who I was and refused to speak to a bastard." He answered honestly.

"Just what we need. More knights with inflated egos." Jon heard Alistair remarked quietly. Loud enough everyone could hear but quiet enough Lord Stark wouldn't tell him off.

"I will speak to him. A Lord Paramount will set him straight." Jon nodded. His father could get away with disrespecting the oafish knight. It was hard to have to act as the Bastard of Winterfell after so many years. He gained respect in Braavos and no one cared about bastardy in Essos. In Fereldan he was considered a part of the Royal Family and most everyone was on the verge of fear and admiration for Arya so it often made him feared and admired. He quickly made a name for himself at the battle for Vigil's Keep while Arya was busy in Amaranthine and for chasing rogue darkspawn across the countryside. In Westeros he was just another Lord's bastard.

"Until then we shall act as expected and draw no attention." Lord Stark commanded.

"Will both of you be in the tourney and melee?"

"I will be in the melee but jousting is not for me." He shivered just thinking of how his last attempt at jousting went. His father gave him an amused look and he heard snickering from Arya and Zevran.

"I will be in both."

"I will be in the archery field." Zevran stated proudly. Jon rolled his eyes. Zevran wasn't a bad shot but he certainly was no Leliana. He had briefly met her and seen her outshoot the entire field at Arya's last nameday festival shortly after his arrival. She left the next day and he never had a chance to talk to her.

"I see, keep an ear out for your opponents. Arya and Sansa will be in the stands with me. Your companion Wynne can come with as well."

"She would enjoy that." And to Jon she leaned over and whispered "and scouting for the next strong young man to join her in her bed."

He couldn't control his laughter and Father sighed at them giggling like children. Zevran smirked and retorted "plenty of fancy knights in armor who need their maidenhood stolen." Jon only laughed harder.

-----

The crowd cheered loudly once more but the Stark retinue deflates when Ser Jory was felled by Ser Lothar Brune. Arya had seen him fell two men earlier.

Soon after the few men of Winterfell fell asleep well by the other knights. She knew tourneys weren't as common in the north but she had hoped their men would make it futher in the listings.

Her and Sansa sat on either side of their father. Septa Mordane sat on Sansa's other side and Wynne sat beside Arya. Her clapping and wooping was endless much to the septas disbelief. Wynne could be quite competitive.

Arya claps with her family when Ser Barristan Selmy defeats another two riders she doesn't recognize. Ser Jaime Lannister defeats one after another before facing his fellow kingsguard and knocking him off.

Her father is disappointed by it but Sansa claps for the knight. Arya still hasn't seen Alistair yet. He was set to ride later but she hadn't yet had the chance to give him her favor. A blue ribbon with green vines with the simple outline of grey wolves running through them. It was long and could be tied around his lance and flow slightly in the wind. She had embellished it herself.

"Gods, Who is that?" Sansa wonders aloud as a huge knight dressed in Clegane colors and bearing the shield of their sigil rides out. She recognizes it from Sandor. She glances up to him to see him deadlocked onto who she guesses is his brother, the Mountain. His scar was much better now and less raised and irritated. His hair was less greasy and his skin more even toned.

Lord Baelish answers her " Ser Gregor Clegane, they call him the Mountain that rides. The Hounds older brother."

"And his opponent?"

"Ser Hugh of the Vale. He was Jon Arryn's squire. Look how far he's come." So that was Ser Hugh. He looked like he was going to piss himself. His horse was picking up on his fear aswell. This will not end well.

"Yes, yes. Enough of the bloody pomp. Have at him!" King Robert announces as they present themselves to him. You couldn't call the man subtle at all. Her father sighs at his words and her sister's arm through her fathers tightens.

The knights urge their horses onto their own sides. They are handed their lances. They ride out once but Ser Hugh stops himself at the second and neither collide. They have now switched with eachother. They once again ride out but this time Ser Gregor connects.

Sansa gasps. Ser Hugh is sent to the ground with blood squirting from his throat. A part of the Mountain's lance had broken and lodged itself into his throat. A silence rings out through the crowd.

Ser Hugh was dead before they could speak to him. Convenient. Jeyne, Sansa's friend screams and bursts into hysterics. The septa escorts her away. Sansa pales and looks on slackjawed. She got a glimpse of the king's outraged face. The queen had a suprised look on her face. It was genuine. Was she not the culprit or just not the mastermind in this instance? She tore her eyes away to look at her lap.

Was she seeing enemies in corners there weren't any?

"Not what you were expecting?" She heard Baelish speak to her sister and father again. Baelish. He was a minor lord of the Vale that rose to power quickly. She wondered now how much of that was luck or schemes. Her father tightened his grip on her hand as he did for Sansa too.

"Now is not the time Lord Baelish." He told him with bite. Littlefinger's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he quickly excused himself. He had obviously never seen her father so angry before. Hopefully he knew now to mind his own business.

The field is cleaned up and the knights body dragged away. The dirt is kicked up to hide it but the blood is still visible in blobs and patches. Ser Loras Tyrell fells several opponents and rides to her sister with a red rose in his hand.

Sansa takes it with a smile filled of childhood joy for knights. She notices Ser Loras isn't looking at her but past she glances up to see his eyes on Lord Renly. Lord Renly is smiling lightly at him and she recognizes the look of love on both of them. Lord Renly urges him on with a shake of his head and his lover acquieces and rides on. Arya feels bad for them as both were high lords who could never be allowed to be with a male lover. They would be disgraced and their houses could be led to ruin. She sighed worrying for Jon. For nobles of Fereldan such love was looked down upon often but not outright against the law. They couldn't marry but they couldn't be killed for it either.

The Dalish saw love as love, atleast for the most part. In places such as Antiva and Rivain were much more open than any were else.

Soon after she catches Alistair's eye as he rides in to the field to joust against Ser Loras. This time he stops infront of her.

She stands up with some effort but wraps the ribbon around his lance with a smile.

"Good luck, my love."

"With your favor? I'm the luckiest man in the world." He kisses her hand and urges his horse away. She sits back down on the hard wood and wished she took Wynne's advice about bringing a pillow. Wynne had already abandoned her to find a food stall for the break in just a few more matches.

She notices her father smiling at her, "Ser Alistair is a good man. He loves you."

"He is and I love him just the same. He is honorable, like you."

"Let's just hope he doesn't bring bastards home then." He joked and Arya's smile faded immediately.

"What's wrong? Has he?" He had a sad guilty look on his face. He couldn't exactly get angry about something he did himself, she supposed.

"No, no nothing like that." She reassured him but he was only slightly relieved.

"But he does have one?"

"Yes. Their mother left very soon and I don't even know their gender." Morrigan...

"You knew their mother?"he asked shocked.

"We were friends, once I suppose, now I'm not so sure."

"Arya I-"

"It's starting!" Sansa called out. She had regained her color once more and had put out the thought of Ser Hugh.

The first time around neither make a connection. The second Ser Loras tries but pulls away at the last second. She breathes deeply and strokes a hand over her swollen middle. The baby kicks in return. They were quite active with all the bustle around. Her husband would not die today. He couldn't.

The third time the lance struck true and sent the Knight of Flowers sprawling to the floor.

She sprung to her feet and clapped and shouted for him. He blew a kiss at her when the boy assisting him started leading him and his horse away. She wonders who's squire he stole.

Its much to dark now to even see the knights so the king commands they'll take place tomorrow before the melee. Wynne bring back many sugary treats and shared them with her and her sister. Her father hd laughed upon seeing the bounty and said he'd wait for real food.

"Be careful on the sweets, ladies. You don't want to get to thick now." The septa phrased it like a joke but it made Sansa visibly worried and she put the lemon treat back down. They still hadn't talked about what Lady Tyrell had said.

"Oh, well I'm already fat and my husband doesn't seem to mind." She joked and Wynne laughed at the jape. The septa and her sister seemed properly scandalized

Her father laughed and told her not to joke like that,"don't be crude."

Sansa shook her head disapproving of his empty reprimand.

"My lord, you really must teach her some manners and propriety! She is too much too wild for a lady. She is to be-" she shuts her mouth abruptly when Lord Stark levels her with his lords gaze. His eyes silver and sharp as a sword's edge. She wonders if this is what people see when they look at her. She supposed not. She was an intimidating warrior in armor and steel not dresses of silk and lace.

"Do not forget your place, Septa Mordane. You are here at my leisure and you are grating on my patience."

"Ye-yes my lord." She stammered and bowed excusing herself.

"Couldn't you have been nicer, father? She only means well." Sansa defended her.

"She means to disrespect me and belittle your sister. Should I let that go?"

"I said something unbecoming of a lady and I should not have said it infront of her. I would apologize to her." Her father was once again suprised by her words but simply nodded at her. Sansa gave her a grateful smile and perhaps a guilty one but said nothing more. Wynne ate another treat and urged her on with her expressive eyebrows.

Arya found the septa sitting on a bench away from the fields with Jeyne and her father. She recalls his name Vayon Poole, her fathers steward at Winterfell. And now Kings Landing. Arya realises she was so focused on outsiders she forgot to watch her own people. She needs to make up for that, starting now.

"Lady Jeyne, Lord Vayon, I must apologize for intruding." She notices the girl still has tears in her eyes. She didn't say anything in return only stared at her slackjawed.Her lord father stood and bowed and urged his daughter to do the same. She did hesitantly.

"Septa Mordane, I apologize for my crude manners. I was raised at court I know better but many of my years have been spent with soldiers and the like and I have learned more than I should have from them. I offer apologies from my father as well you may go sit with my sister again, if you like."

"Thank you, my lady. My own comment was out of line and your lord father owes me no apology I was out of line and disrespectful. But I thank you both of your for your generosity, I shall return to your sister." Mordane bowed again and walked back towards the stand.

"Are you alright Lady Jeyne?" She asked once she realised the young lady was trembling more than a green boy seeing the darkspawn for the first time, "you're shaking, my lady." The girl was frightened heavily and looked like a mouse ready to dart into their dark hole.

"My daughter was witness to knights and their missteps, we appreciate the concern, my lady." Her father answers her instead.

She was about to open her mouth again when Alistair finds her.

"I was looking for you everywhere, thought you got yourself into trouble again."

"Not just yet, I'm still looking." She jests making Alistair smile.

"So you really are married then?" Lady Jeyne finally asks much to her father's chagrin. He quickly attempts to apologize for her outburst and the lady seemed mortified by her words.

"It's just that you always seemed to protest the idea of marrying. Very strongly." That did make sense. From what she learned from the others she was a wild child who wanted to fight and refused to be a lady.

In Fereldan she did not need to choose between being a lady or a warrior she could be both. In Westeros there was no choice. When she was a child her father betrothed her to Thomas Howe. Thomas was only a few years older than her but was a heavy drinker. He was one of her admirers in the courtyard and she often thought his own skills could be improved if he just slowed down on the drink a little. He preferred to spend his nights with whores but Rendon Howe somehow always convinced her father to keep the betrothal even as more and more dishonor was done against her. She always wondered why it mattered to him if he was just going to betray and murder her family anyway. Then Fergus mentioned that most of the damage done to their lands was done to the castle of Highever and the other lands and keeps were untouched by him. She had realised then that he probably knew the Cousland people were to loyal to turn on their leige lord and that if he had captured her alive he could marry her to his son to get loyalty from them in some vast lie and plot. She wondered when his plan fell away when she escaped or when Thomas ran away to join the Battle at Ostagar and died in his partners regicide scheme?

It hadn't worked of course because Snow alerted her to the men sneaking around and she was able to fight them off. That night was the first time she killed someone. She had trained with steel all her life and finally she had to put it to the ultimate test. Many can train for their entire lives and die at the first real battle because they hesitate or realise that the sword they have in their hands is real and that the blood on them is the lifeblood of another.

"Makes sense from what I've heard of your childhood you were half feral." Alistair chuckled and pulled her out of the thought.

"That is what I have gathered as well. You are good friends with my sister, are you not? I'm sure you have known me for a long time." The girl flinched at her words and her eyes flitted between her and her husband afraid.

"You were all quite close as children, remember Jeyne? Your sewing circle with all the young ladies of Winterfell?" Her father prompted again. After she said nothing and only continued staring her father tried to excuse themselves," I'm very sorry, my lady, ser, please excuse us she's had quite a fright, enjoy the festivities. I pray you will win the tourney tomorrow!" With that the man took his daughter on his arm and practically dragged her away.

"Your are very beautiful, my lady." She said muttered almost inaudible as she was dragged. She stared after them until they were well and truly out of sight and darkness had fallen even more.

"What a strange girl," Alistair remarked curious at the lady's strange personality," she seemed deathly afraid of everything. Like she was a ceramic going to shatter into pieces." Arya hummed softly in acknowledgement and looped her arm with her husband's. The mystery of Jeyne Poole would not be solved today it seemed.

When they made it back to the Tower everyone was already seated around rhe table. Even Ohgren had found his way over.

"Just like old times you two! Always on your own adventures! Told you they would find their own way back!" Ohgren boisterously shouted at there entrance. The man was already loud normally but the shouting Arya could swear shook the whole castle.

Ohgren, Wynne, Zevran, and Jon all sat on one side while Sansa, Septa Mordane, Jeyne and her father sat the other. There were of course more men milling about but none at the family table this time.

Her father ignored the outburst, and claimed, "i was about to alert the guards to look for you."

"We just lost track of time, is there still dinner left?" Alistair answered first and her father gestured to the only two empty seats at the end of the table.

"I knew would you would throw that pompous lordling!" Ohren laughed and yelled when Wynne reprimanded him with a swift hit to the back of his head.

Soon after Lady Jeyne and her father excused themselves. Arya noticed she was shaking slightly less now but she still seemed to tremble.

"That was an excellent match, Alistair. I hope you win tomorrow." Sansa politely spoke with all the dignity of lady at court.

"You still have one more round left before the final and it's against the Mountain." Father reminded them all.

"I've seen him kill much bigger men." Zevran stated in challenge.

She could see Jon disaprovingly shaking his head at his lover. For a second they locked eyes and she smiled at him much to his less than amusement. Zevran never knew when to shut up and she was glad Jon had taken up the impossible task.

"I do hope I will win, the reward is quite high."

"Unfortunately." Was what her father said to that much to Sansa's confusion.

"Thank you father and friends for your words of encouragement." She patted Alistair's thigh to signal him to rise." Please excuse us we have all had a long day and rest is much needed." Her father nodded and wished her a good night.

"Nighty night!" Ohgren sung at their shadows as he gulped down more ale. Wynne had a softer pleasant dreams and Jon and Zevran echoed their own goodbyes to them all as they retired as well.

-----

The next morning the Hand's Tourney was even more rowdy now filled with men ready to trample and injure their way to gold.

There was still time before the melee were the last matches of yesterday would be played.

First Arya's new friend The Hound felled the Kingslayer. Much to the man's suprise. Next was Alistair and the Mountain.

He could see his family from where he stood watching in the sidelines but he doubted they could see him even if they looked for him.

Sansa and Arya were the definition of ladies. He had never thought Arya would be a prim and proper lady even less a queen. A knight? A commander? He could see but a lady? It always seemed far-fetched she would ever take the Septa's lessons to heart but now she was married to a king and was soon to birth his heir.

He could admit now that Alistair wasn't the man he had first assumed him to be. He had thought him cruel and dangerous when he learned of his bloody coup at the landsmeet. Of him marching into a peaceful meeting that turned into an execution.

He heard what they called Arya the "Blood Bride" and had assumed the worst. Instead he learned they called her that when she announced to the whole court she would marry King Alistair covered in the blood of Loghain Mac Tir. After she fought as Alistair's champion before handing the man over to him for execution. She had championed herself in fear of another cheap desperate trick to win.

Now Alistair would go up against the Mountain. They rode in and presented themselves to the king and he waved them off.

He spotted Arya with her head down and her hands collapsed her lips whispering the words of the Maker. She always prayed before battles he remembered. Before she fought she would grip her pendent of the sun of Andraste and pray. He once asked her why she was so curious of the gods of her family, the Old Gods and the Seven and she had answered with one of her too wise words.

"Faith and Foundation are rooted in curiosity, brother. What would we be without curiosity?"

He wonders if she knew how much those words effected him. She probably did like she could look into his eyes and see his soul pour out.

Alistair and the Mountain were handed their lances and their shields by squires. Alistair's Theirin sigil a quartered white and gold with the long tailed red mabari hounds.

He wore a full set of volcanic aurum armour with cloths of gold and white. His helmet was just as golden but the plumes were red to match the hounds.

Arya's hound, Snow, had joined her today actually. He had been out in the King's wood with the other wolves for a while as they settled there Lyarra, Ghost, Lady and Avaline had all settled into the King's woods. To prevent any more problems wirh princes but now that everything has settled once more he'd retrieve Ghost again and he's sure his sisters and father will welcome their own companions to their rooms once more.

Alistair and Ser Gregor ran full pace towards eachother. Alistair would have to hit him the first time the Mountain always goes for the kill.

They collided as everyone lurched to their feet and his view was ruined. Crashing noises could be heard but he couldn't tell through the people who it was. The fence was crushed and the the Mountain's black stallion got up on uneasy feet. Alistair had been victorious and waved to everyone cheering for him. Jon clapped his hands and whooped for him until the Mountain retrieved his sword and cleaved the head of his horse off. The horse's body crumpled to the floor.

Everyone gasped and several ladies even screamed as the blood poured out.

Alistair turned around and stopped waving just in time to dodge a blow from him. He drew his own sword that was once Ser Duncan's and parried another blow.

It was almost comical the way the Mountain had almost 3 feet on Alistair but still he kept him back.

The Hound jumped down from the stands and started attacking his brother as well.

"STOP THIS MADNESS IN THE NAME OF THE KING!" King Robert bellowed out red-faced and panting from breathing so heavily. The Hound dodged a final swing from his brother by bowing and Alistair immediately bowed as well leaving the Mountain to throw down his sword and stomp off the feild. Anyone ever tell him lose with grace?

He spotted Arya clapping again for the two men that held off the Mountain. His father was clapping but he had a strange look on his face.

The king ordered for the field to be cleaned and set again while everyone else took a break. Or that's what he could understand from the man. He could have been ravings about pigeons for all Jon could hear.

After the last round between the Hound and Alistair it would be the archery competition. Zevran had been practicing all morning and yesterday. He saw some of his competition earlier and they looked good like good enough to face Leliana. Still they would to lose her.

They might win against Zevran though. He loves him of course but Zev has never been the best archer. He was an excellent tracker of course and could spot animals miles away but he couldn't shoot them from there like even Arya could. Arya mostly hunted with her archery skills rather than battled. She preferred sword and shield for that.

She'd wipe all rhe competition in seconds if she did the melee but alas. Not that Arya couldn't fight if she needed to but after everything he can't blame her if she wants to stay as far away from anything that could hurt the baby.

"Who do you think the Hound would crown as his queen of love and beauty?" Zevran questioned as he slid up next to him on the half fence. Zevran swiped the back if his hand over his hair. A inconspicuous way to check is his ears are showing, Jon guessed.

"Probably the queen, he is a Lannister lackey, after all."

"I think he'd crown Arya. He seems to like her especially since she helped him with his burn." His finger languidly reached over and twisted one of Jon's curls in his hand.

"Wish me luck then. We're supposed to be ready as soon as the final match ends." Zevran and Jon both glanced around looking for eavesdroppers before Jon reached in and gave him a quick chaste kiss on the lips.

"Good luck, my love."

"Lucks got nothing to do with it, believe me!" Zevran whispered gleefuly as he retreated into the crowd of rushing squires and aggravated knights.

Hopefully that doesn't mean he's planning to cheat....oh who is he kidding? Zevran is definitely going to cheat and get himself into trouble. Again.

He should alert Arya. Probably.

--------
Maester Luwin's solvent was cooling to the burns on his arms.

The fact he could feel the pain from them was a good thing according to Luwin.

Summer whined and licked at his shoeless foot.

It was ticklish and he giggled before nudging the wolf away with his foot. It was difficult to pet the wolf laying on his bed while he was on his back but he scratched him with his foot instead.

A healed ankle to burned arms and back. Other places aswell but the worst was on his back and arms. From where he layed in the heating wood but the burns were worse on his palms. They were red and irritated and skin was peeling off like bubbles in water. He couldn't see them now as the Maester had them wrapped up tightly but sometimes he took them off to let the wounds breathe. They ached when he did that.

Maester Luwin said he was lucky he was healing so fast but Bran didn't feel lucky at all.

He might never hold a sword comfortably again. Nevermind a shield.

Tears welled in his eyes and he blinked them away as rapidly as they formed.

"Bran? Are you alright?" His mother questioned from her seat beside the bed.

"I'm fine, Mother." She set down her sewing on the bench beside her and stood up to walk to his side.

"Mother-" he attempted.

"Shh, sweetling. Let me sing you to sleep, alright?" She comforted with a brush to his forehead to wipe the hair and place a kiss

"I'm not a baby-"he attempted once more.

"Come stop your cryin’, it will be alright"

He closed his eyes abd relented.

"Just take my hand, hold it tight"

"I will protect you from all around you I will be here, don’t you cry"

Her soft singing and hand brushing along his back lulled him to a sleep.
"For one so small, you seem so strong"

"My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm"

"This bond between us can’t be broken"