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ARYA

She refused to leave her chambers. She held the door shut using all her strength when Sansa tried to barge in. She put a pillow over her head when Septa Mordane prattled on about her womanly duties and the honor of House Stark and her lord father. She remained silent while her mother tried to reason with her and explain the way a man and a woman can grow into love. She nodded and pretend to be thinking carefully about what her father told her, about how he knew how hard this was for her, of how much she reminded him Lyanna, and of how he knew that Arya would be a wonderful wife in her own way.

Arya ignored the late night knock at the door. Probably the good Septa or my dear mother again, here to convince me how happy I will be someday, how much I will love my husband someday. Today is not someday, though. And I am not happy and I do not love the stranger who will arrive tomorrow evening.

"Arya," was all the voice on the other side said. It was enough for her to leap from the bed and open her door.

"I thought you were Sansa or Septa Mordane," she said, making a face.

Jon Snow looked down at his tiny, fifteen year old half-sister and chuckled, "Can I come in?"

Arya stepped back from the doorway and allowed him to enter and take a seat at her window bench.

"You aren't going to tell me of my womanly duties or how I will grow into love, will you?" she asked.

"No," he said simply.

"Good. I knew you wouldn't. You understand, Jon. You know that I cannot marry that boy. I cannot marry any boy."

"He is hardly a boy."

She rolled her eyes. "Eighteen years old. A boy, a man, it makes no difference. I won't marry him."

"Well, that's too bad. I was looking forward to seeing you as a blushing bride," Jon said with a grin.

Arya, scowling, picked up a pillow and threw it at him. "It's not funny, you know!"

"I know," he said, his grin disappearing. "But it's not the end of the world either."

"What do you mean? Of course it is! If I marry, I can't fight with a sword. I can't be a knight. I can't join the Night's Watch. I can't…" She trailed off.

"What? What can't you do?"

She looked at her half-brother, with tears welling in her eyes. "I can't be Arya Stark of Winterfell."

Jon sighed, "Is that what this is all about? Winterfell?"

Arya remained silent.

"Winterfell isn't going anywhere. This will always be your home and will always be here for you."

"I know," she said quietly, wiping hot tears from her face.

"And as for the other matters, you can do most of it. Well, not the Night's Watch, but you can't do that married or unmarried. A wall full of men and one woman? That's a recipe for disaster."

"But that's where you'll go, isn't it? The wall?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yes, if our father will allow it. I'll be a great Ranger like Uncle Benjen," he said proudly.

Arya sighed sadly, "It's not fair, being a woman. It's not fair at all."

Jon Snow moved from the chair to sit beside her on the bed. "I know. I can't say you're wrong about that, but you are wrong about something."

"What?" she asked honestly.

He was quiet for a moment, looking out the window, before he turned to her and said, "You'll always be Arya. You'll always want to fight with a sword and ride into battle. You'll always prefer breeches and a tunic to gowns and jewelry. You'll always be stubborn and pushy. You'll always be yourself. A marriage won't change any of that. The only person who can truly change you is you. If you want to be Arya, be Arya. A sword or your clothing doesn't define you. Be Arya, no matter what. No one can take that from you. Not even a husband."

She stared at him, honestly thinking about his words.

"Yes, maybe you'll grow to love him, but he'll also probably grow to love you. If he's not a bloody fool, that is," Jon said, his grin returning.

Arya didn't grin. She was still thinking.

Jon kept looking out the window while his little half-sister thought. Everyone else trying to convince Arya to consent to the marriage was motivated by other thoughts- of House Stark, of honor, and of the future. She knew Jon didn't care about any of that more than he cared about her happiness. He simply told her the truth, not trying to convince her of anything.

Arya finally spoke, "Well, I'll receive my betrothed tomorrow. I won't be graceful, though. Leave the grace to Mother and Sansa. I'll simply stand there and be Arya Stark." And then she grinned.

Jon grinned, too, "Good. Be Arya Stark. The boy should know what he's getting himself into from the beginning. Don't mislead him into thinking you're sweet and gentle. Prepare him for the greatest battle of his life- the battle of taming the wild Arya Stark of the North."

She laughed, "That is a battle that Prince Gendry Baratheon will undoubtedly lose."