It is snowing when Arya expects the envoy from the Vale. Her cousin Robert Arryn is the Lord Protector of the Vale and he is a year younger than Bran would have been. She has heard many a tale of this young Lord Arryn, most of them not complimentary but apparently the widow of his cousin has been taking care of him and teaching him what is what, that a Lord's duty is to his monarch and to his people.
Arya sits on the Iron Throne, Queen Regent until little Ned reaches the age of sixteen (or she dies and her small council takes over but she doesn't want to contemplate the possibility), waiting for the Lord Arryn when the herald announced the arrivals and nearly gave Arya a heart attack.
"Lord Robert Arryn, Lord Paramount of the Vale, Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East," was the first declaration. "Lady Sansa Hardyng, of Houses Stark and Hardyng, Lady Regent of the Vale."
Arya couldn't take her eyes off the boy of fourteen and the woman of nineteen who walked in. The boy isn't important to her, he isn't pack, but the woman… Sansa… She has long red hair and blue eyes and is so beautiful and looks so much like Arya's dead mother that it cannot be anyone but her sister.
She watches, frozen, as the woman and the boy kneel in front of her and swear the Vale's fealty to her, Sansa not taking her Tully blue eyes off of Arya's own Stark grey. When it is over and done with, Arya gets up from the Throne and walks slowly to stand in front of Sansa who is smiling gently at her, no hint of the expected jealousy in her eyes. Hesitantly Arya reaches towards the taller woman's face and scarcely dares to believe it when her hand meets soft, solid skin. Sansa does the same, her right hand touching Arya's left cheek, and Arya closes her eyes and leans to the touch. Then her big sister has her arms wrapped around Arya and Arya buries her face in Sansa's neck.
"I thought you were dead," she whispers, blinking rapidly to keep her tears from falling.
"And I thought you were dead," answers Sansa into Arya's hair, her voice hoarse.
They stand there, holding each other in front of the whole court. Finally Arya draws back and Sansa loosens her arms around her sister, still looking at each other.
"What happened to your hair?" asks Sansa with a frown and Arya throws her head back and laughs.
When Stannis Baratheon's envoy arrives, without Stannis Baratheon, Arya expects is to go like every other envoy expect Sansa's but there is some commotion outside the Throne room doors.
"I'm not going in there! I'm not a kneeler!" shouts a young boy's voice.
"Calm down Lord Stark," demands an older voice and Arya feels her heart stop. "And call off that beast of yours. I doubt your sister wants a direwolf in the Throne room."
"Shaggy goes where I go," the boy answers stubbornly. "And if she really is my sister then she should have a direwolf of her own. Jon has Ghost and Bran has Summer. And for the last time I ain't no lord! Now let me go to the Godswood, I want to talk to father, even if he can't talk back yet."
"The dead cannot talk back from the Heart trees," the man groans.
"Yes they can, just because you're a southron and won't be joining the weirwood trees doesn't mean I won't and that father and Osha and Robb didn't," the boy sneers.
"Fine!" the man relents. "But I want you bathed and dressed for dinner!"
Arya and Sansa glance each other. Is Rickon really alive?
The herald announces Lord Davos Seaworth, the envoy of Lord Stannis Baratheon but Arya barely pays any attention to him, too preoccupied with wondering if the boy she'd heard really was Rickon and how he'd escaped Winterfell.
As soon as the meeting is over (official negotiations start tomorrow) Arya and Sansa hurry to the Godswood of the Red Keep and find a young boy of eleven craving a face into one of the weirwood trees, letting the sap bleed and freeze in rivulets. He is talking to the tree. A huge black direwolf is laying in the snow by his side.
"They say she's my sister. Or rather that they are my sisters. But if they are, they are the pack that left. You are my pack, you and Jon," he was saying and a wind rustled the leaves of the new Heart tree. "You too Osha, Robb, but you're dead," he laughs. "You have to tell me tonight if it hurt when I made the new eyes. You told me weirwood trees don't understand the meaning of time but you haven't told me if they feel pain. Me and Shaggy don't like to hurt you and Summer. Did you know there are dragons here? Real, live dragons! You said you've seen a dragon in the Land-Beyond-the-Wall. Now that you can see here, are they the same kind? They say the Queen had a third dragon but it flew away after it's mother died. Do you think it's the same dragon?"
The boy has wild red hair and is rather built for an eleven-year-old boy. He sat on his knees in front of the finished Heart tree and the face carved to the tree was reminiscent of Bran, their cripple brother. Arya and Sansa wonder why he is talking to the tree like he expects it to answer.
"Father, are they really my sisters? The one that lost her wolf and the one that drove her wolf away?" he asks the tree and wind rustles the Heart tree's leaves. "Really? They are? But I don't feel like they are, I don't know them. It isn't like I can just warg into them and know them as well as I know Shaggy. Bran said it's forbidden to warg into other people. Dangerous too." The wind answers again. "Talk to them? I've tried talking with kneelers before, they never listen. They say I'm too young and wild and that Osha should have brought me to Bear Island rather than Skagos. But I liked Skagos, I could run there and I didn't have to learn to be a lord because you're still there with the three eyed crow. Beside, shouldn't the title be King in the North, like Robb, rather than Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North? I'll never understand… How are your legs healing? You said the old Gods were healing your legs. Will you be able to walk again? I don't like watching that big man carry you around, it makes you look weak." The leaves are ruffled. "Hodor's dead? Did the Others kill him? You burned his corpse at least, right?" The leaves are ruffled again. "Company? What do you mean?" he asks and turns around and sees Arya and Sansa standing there. His face closes of and the smile slips away. Both he and the direwolf tense and stand up, looking at them. Then the boy turns and starts to gather the things he's used in craving the face into the Heart tree. Arya spies a dagger of Dragon glass in there, as well as some herbs she thinks she recognizes. He doesn't say a word to them as he and the direwolf leave but the direwolf, Shaggy, growls at them.
Sansa collapses on the bench by the Godswood's gate. "Arya, it really is Rickon!" she breathes, tears welling in her eyes."But he doesn't want to talk to us."
"I think he may have cracked myself," Arya says bluntly. "You heard him talking to the Heart tree like it was Bran and Father and Robb and this Osha. It is as if he has taken the worship of Old Gods to a new height. Father liked to sit in the Godswood in Winterfell but he never talked to the Heart tree like he expected an answer. Even his prayers were almost impersonal if not for the things he asked."
"Maybe this Osha was a wildling and taught him weird things," Sansa rationalizes.
"Yeah, maybe," snorts Arya and sits beside Sansa. "You know, that face looks scarily like Bran."
It is already evening when the Lord Commander of Night's Watch arrives to King's Landing and Arya is ready to end court for the day but allows the Lord Commander to be presented.
"Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch," the herald says and in walks Arya's half-brother, dressed in all black.
"Jon!" Arya yelps and springs up from the Throne, throwing her arms around him, like she did when she was small. Well, smaller. And he catches her, just as he did before and twirls her around. "I heard you were dead!"
"And I heard no one had seen you since before Father's execution, since the Arya Stark that married Ramsay Bolton turned out to be Jeyne Poole," Jon answers. "Then the word came that you had taken King's Landing in the name of your dead husband and small child and I couldn't believe it!"
"Did you know Sansa's alive too?" asks Arya as Jon sets her back on the floor.
"No, I didn't. Is she alive then?"
"Yes, and she's here," Arya motions to the ladies of the court where Jon sees a head of familiar red hair. "She was in Vale and has married and has a daughter of her own. Can you believe it?"
"Easier than you being a mother," answers Jon teasingly.
"Rickon talks about you," Arya says as she dismisses the court and leads Jon to the familiar red head. "I mean, when he talks to us he talks about you."
Jon smiles. "I've visited him occasionally since Stannis found him. He grew up well."
Arya and Sansa glance each other. It is Sansa who speaks. "We fear he may have cracked during all these years. When he first came here, we found him talking to the Heart tree in the Red Keep's Godswood, as if he expected an answer. He talked to it as if he was talking to Bran."
"And Father and Robb and someone named Osha," Arya adds.
"You know, Heart trees do answer sometimes," Jon says carefully. "Never to me anymore but I've seen them answer Free Folk and other worshipers of Old Gods."
"Free Folk?" asks Sansa with a furrowed brow.
"It's what wildlings call themselves," Jon shrugs just as the throne room doors are pushed open and Rickon runs inside with Shaggy.
"Jon!" he crows happily and throws his arms around his brother. Shaggy and Ghost sniff each other before head butting. Arya feels a pang of jealousy. Rickon never greets her like that. "Davos told me you were here! Are you here to talk to the Queen about the Others?"
"Yes, I am," answers Jon with a smile. "It's my duty to tell her Majesty about the threat beyond the Wall."
"What threat?" Arya asks sharply.
"White walkers and whights," Jon says bluntly.
"From Old Nan's tales?" asks Sansa with a worried frown.
"I don't know about any tales but they killed Osha and Br-" Rickon starts but catches himself in time. "They killed Osha," he repeats lamely.
Three of his older siblings are watching him curiously but he stubbornly refuses to say anything more and they turn back to discussing the threat beyond the Wall, making plans as Rickon slips away.
The battle is fierce and Arya is leading her troops in cutting down the Others. Viserion has stayed behind in King's Landing and Rhaegal was in the west, defending the Tower of Shadows. Everything seems to be going well enough until the Wall starts to crumble. It isn't much at first, just the occasional bit of ice falling but as they become more frequent and larger; they start to affect the fighting. Soon her troops are running away from the wall as bits of ice larger than horses are falling down.
Finally a whole section of the Wall crumbles and Arya sees the alarming number of Others scrambling over what used to be the Wall.
Just when the wave of Others is upon them a burst of fire burns them to ash in seconds. Arya looks up and sees Drogon, the dragon that flew away after Daenerys died, with a direwolf in its claws and a red haired rider on his back.
"Bran!" she hears Rickon, who had sneaked with them, shout gleefully as Drogon lands, setting Summer down and waiting for Bran to slide off it's back. To Arya's surprise Bran's legs worked and he slid down Drogon's back on his own. His steps are unsteady and slow but he is walking and Rickon runs to meet him. "You're walking! Last time you said you could only wiggle your toes!"
"Much can happen in a week as you well know," Bran answers and hugs Rickon. "This is why I couldn't visit you, I was working on walking."
"It's okay," Rickon says, shaking his head, and Arya can see the worship in his eyes as he looks at Bran.
Arya takes a good look at the man Rickon calls their brother. Bran is tall, taller than Robb had been, and his eyes now have green mixed in with the Tully blue. His hair is darker than Rickon or Sansa's and his clothes are made of a weird material. He has something tied to his back that she can't see, and he has a broad sword made of Dragon glass that he uses as a cane.
"Did the three eyed crow let you come?" she hears Rickon ask.
"The three eyed crow is no more," Bran answers. "Instead we have a three eyed direwolf. I'm no crow, see, and if I want to fly, I can just slip into Drogon."
Arya wasn't sure if she's heard right and Bran said "slip onto" and not "slip into" Drogon.
"I can't believe you have a dragon for a skin!" Rickon says, smiling widely.
"It's not that great," says Bran with a shrug. "Now I have to work on keeping my temper in check."
Rickon snorts. "Don't bother. These kneelers need someone to tell them what to do."
Bran throws his head back and laughs loudly. "I knew I chose right when I chose Osha to protect you. She made you a right wildling Prince!"
Rickon smiles proudly. "That she did," he declares it like there would be no higher honor he could imagine.
"Bran? You're alive?" Jon asks in disbelief.
"Yes," answers Bran with a nod, looking at Jon but not letting go of Rickon. "And so are you," he says, eyes sad, like he knows a terrible secret about Jon.
"Where have you been?" Arya demands, finding her voice.
"Up North, in the land of Always-Winter," Bran shrugs.
"What were you doing there?"
"Learning."
"Learning what?"
"Magic."
The silence that falls upon them is so thick it could be cut with a spoon.
"I suppose Sansa is still at King's Landing," Bran finally says. "Looking after the children?"
Rickon snorts again. "Don't pretend you don't know, you know everything."
Bran smiles down at him. "I don't know everything. I admit I know very much but only the Gods know everything." He looks up to the sun. "I have to get going. I'll be back in three days but I have to make a quick trip to King's Landing. I have something else for Sansa to look after," he says and finally lets go or Rickon. "Look after Summer for me?" he asks Rickon who nods eagerly and he hobbles back to Drogon who lowers himself so that Bran can climb back up and Arya finally sees what Bran has on his back: two infants.
When Bran flies away Arya feels the first warm wind in close to eight years and knows that Spring is coming, after which come summer and fall and eventually winter again, but this time, hopefully without the Others.