After King's Landing, after Cersei, after Daenerys, after it's over, Arya still feels ... lost, adrift. She watches silently as Jon is set up as the new King of the Seven Kingdoms. Her brother who doesn't want this. His face is constantly set in a frown, his eyes sad.
It's a dumb puppy-dog expression and it hits Arya in the gut because it reminds her of someone else.
Her list is complete - part of it her own doing. She doesn't know who she is without that list, without the purpose that's been driving her for nearly a decade.
"Go home," Jon tells her one day.
"I don't have a home," she replies, because home isn't a place anymore. It's a person. Home's been a person for longer than she cares to admit and she broke his heart and her own, to try and save them all.
"You always have a home in Winterfell, Arya," Jon says seriously, urgently. And Arya understands the meaning behind his words.
She pulls him into a tight hug, burying her face in his neck. "So do you, Jon."
He smiles sadly at her when they pull away. "Go home, Arya."
This time, she listens.
She's a Northerner and maybe being home at Winterfell again will help her find purpose.
Less than a week after Arya's return to Winterfell, Sansa finds her sister in the forge.
Arya's sitting on one of the small stools, staring at the empty fire pit. There's no smith at Winterfell currently and Arya's not sure why she's so surprised. She knows he was at King's Landing for the final confrontation - even if they didn't speak - but she assumes he would have come back to Winterfell after.
Sansa sits down on a nearby stool, watching her sister.
"How did you find me?" Arya asks.
"I suppose I could lie and say I know you well enough to figure it out," Sansa smiles wryly, "But I really just asked Bran."
Arya laughs and turns to face her older sister. Sansa reaches out a gloved hand and holds onto Arya's own gloved hand.
"I'm glad you're alive and home," Sansa says sincerely. There's a catch in her voice and both Stark girls are thinking about those that hadn't made it home from the capital.
Arya squeezes Sansa's hand. "Me too." She shifts the stool over so she's sitting directly next to Sansa, their shoulders touching. It's nice - to sit with her sister and not be fighting.
The Stark sisters sit quietly for a few moments, staring out into the courtyard, watching the light dusting of snow fall. It's always winter in the North, but this snowfall feels restorative, instead of destructive.
"D'you think they'd be proud of us?" Arya asks quietly. Sansa doesn't have to ask who she means and she doesn't answer right away.
Instead, she sighs and continues looking out at the snow. "I...I like to think so," Sansa says eventually, "yes."
Tears fill both of their eyes at the memory of their parents and brothers.
"I am glad that they weren't around to see all the horrors that we suffered through," Sansa whispers quietly. She holds tight to Arya's hand, drawing strength from her little sister. Arya clings to her just as tightly.
"All of it brought us back here," Arya points out. "Brought us back together."
Sansa smiles sadly. "But we're not the same, are we?"
"No," Arya replies simply. "No, we're not."
Sansa hesitates and then leans to rest her head on Arya's shoulder. They've never been close - most likely never will be - but they're Starks and the pack survives. They need each other, need to have each other's support. And Sansa would be lying if she said she didn't want to be close to her sister. She likes to think that they understand each other just a bit better now.
"I'm sorry," Arya says suddenly.
"For what?" Sansa replies. She narrows her eyes, "I'd better not find bugs in my bed again." Both girls giggle a bit at the memory of an old prank.
"No," Arya laughs a bit. "I'm sorry that you were forced into marriages that were horrible, when all you wanted was love and a fairytale like the stories."
"Oh," Sansa says quietly. Her eyes get a far-away look and she inhales deeply. "Tyrion was never anything but decent to me. And I learned very quickly that love is so very rare, at least in high-born marriages. And the stories are just stories."
Arya stays very quiet - thinking about her low-born, bastard love. He becomes a Lord and the very next thing on his mind is marriage. She would have been content being a smith's wife. He should have known that. But, maybe they didn't know each other that well at all.
Sansa continues, "But I think you've found it, haven't you?"
"What?" Arya starts, jostling Sansa's head off of her shoulder.
A knowing gleam in her eye, Sansa smiles at her younger sister. "You left us all behind, Arya. You left Gendry too."
A knot forms in Arya's stomach when she says his name - an uncomfortable mix of guilt and longing and damn him, love.
"He's just a stupid smith," is her derisive reply. But Sansa isn't easily swayed.
"Arya, he told me everything," she says firmly. And off of Arya's angry look, Sansa defends herself, "I bullied it out of him. He was so, so mopey! Banging around in the forge, refusing to leave for Storm's End or King's Landing until he was absolutely sure you weren't hiding somewhere in Winterfell."
"Stubborn bull," Arya mutters under her breath, but there's affection in her tone. Sansa gives her sister a knowing look.
"Why did you say no?" she asks eventually. "He loves you, that's obvious. And you love him too."
"It's not that simple, Sansa," Arya replies tightly. "I had...matters to handle."
"And now you don't," Sansa says quietly. "Now you can let yourself be Arya Stark again. You're allowed happiness, you know."
Arya drops her head, eyes cast at the floor. That's the problem, isn't it? She isn't sure how to be anyone other than No One. She's brought so much death to others; how can she be allowed happiness. How can she make Gendry happy when she isn't a Lady, doesn't want to be?
"Gendry deserves better," she settles on finally, refusing to meet Sansa's eyes.
She can hear, rather than see the eye roll her sister lets loose. "Arya, that's the stupidest thing I've heard," Sansa's tone is frustrated. "No matter what you think of yourself, you're a wonderful person. Insufferable, sometimes, but wonderful. Gendry loves you for you, not any imagined role you've ascribed in your mind."
"He wants me to be a Lady, Sansa!" Arya bursts out, jumping up from the stool and pacing the forge. Wild energy is palpable - coming off of her in waves. "I thought he knew me better than that!"
Sansa's brow furrows - she can't pretend to know what Gendry was thinking in the moment of his proposal, but from what she had understood after her conversation with him, Gendry was in love with Arya as she was and didn't want to change her. She sighs at her younger sister and says as much. "I think you should let him explain. It was a charged night - so many were not in their right mind," Sansa thinks on her conversation with The Hound. "Throwing away love for pride's sake is the work of a fool, Arya."
"Then I'm a fool," Arya snaps.
Sansa stands as well, squaring her shoulders against her sister. "You're many things, Arya. And many more that I don't know a thing about, but I know that you're not a fool."
Arya pouts childishly.
"Go to him, Arya," Sansa says and her tone brokers no argument. The steel in her voice is so remarkably their mother that Arya almost flinches back a step.
"And if he's changed his mind?" Arya retorts tartly, hiding her fear that that's exactly what Gendry will do upon seeing her.
Sansa reaches out to grasp her sister's hand. "Then you'll come to Winterfell or you'll travel all of Westeros. But, Arya, I don't think he will."
The hope and certainty in Sansa's voice serves to bolster Arya's nerves and she squeezes Sansa's hand, before heading off to prepare her supplies for the long ride to Storm's End.
A raven arrives from Storm's End nearly a month after Arya left Winterfell.
Sansa recognizes her sister's handwriting immediately and breaks the seal quickly, curious as to what the message could be.
It's only three words, but Sansa tears up in happiness at the meaning.
You were right
She smiles broadly and presses her fingers to her lips. It seems that Sansa will have to take a trip to Storm's End in the future to get the full story, but for now, the knowledge that her sister is happy with Gendry is more than enough.
A/N: I was originally going to end this with Arya showing up to Storm's End, but I decided I wanted to focus more on Sansa and Arya's sister bond. Hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think :)