Home Again

Disclaimer: There is no way in hell I could write something as cool and as damned good as Ice and Fire. Not my stuff, characters, nothing, and I, in no way whatsoever, seek to profit from any fanfics. Just some drabble for fun and out of sheer boredom and to pass some time waiting for the next book. And this is for friends who love these two…when they're older. Probably a two-shot…

Also, please note that several years have passed, and only with the possibility of the future in mind…

The closest thing to looking like a lady she could reasonably be coaxed into wearing was a rather plain and gray woolen dress. She had insisted on keeping the worn breeches underneath. The look on her face was adamant, dared anyone to argue further, and so it went. And really there was not much choice. Supplies were still low or non-existent; one of a multitude of things that would need to be looked into now that Starks had returned to Winterfell. And they cautioned, to those who felt the need to press, that somehow that direwolf, the direwolf had found its way back to its owner, so it surely wouldn't do to press too hard. But they had some made strides. It wasn't much but it was still a dress.

The young smith watched her as she walked around the courtyard, asking questions, barking out requests in a high, feminine voice; the tone not so much. Not unkindly, but in a controlled, steady demeanor. From his temporary set up half indoors half out, and under a makeshift roof, barely stable and in much need of repair as a whole, he could make out the serious expression and furrowed brows and the wide gray eyes taking everything in. Most likely the relief and yet security of being home again for her, but she still seemed sort of out of her element.

And he didn't know the half of it yet but could only guess. Sometimes he pushed away the thoughts not wanting to know. He had seen a lot of Arry and Weasal. And even Arya once he had known. After that, he couldn't even imagine all she had been through. She seemed the same but somehow had changed. Older, of course, but something else… a bit bitter, a bit resigned, happy to be home but still sad. Ghosts and memories had to be all around for her in her mind as she looked at Winterfell. What did she see or think of as she paced around the castle seemingly non-stop since she returned?

She had returned and had appeared to be as surprised to see him as he had been of her. The Brotherhood had made its way here with Stoneheart, never knowing the two girls and the boys were making their way here as well. But not much of a fancy noble return, of course. Nothing like the processions he had seen in King's landing as a boy, when Mott had let him stop his work for a break to look on. One girl returned with some loyal bannermen of the former Hand, Ned Stark, and a female knight, who had been sworn to Stoneheart. She looked nothing like her sister, and not because she was wearing a pretty dress. Very pretty, very lady-like, but nothing like Arya. Nice to him, but completely overwhelmed. She was tearing when he had first seen her and he felt for her. She seemed to be much more outwardly happy at being home once again.

The boys returned with a very big stable boy and a wildling. And various other people too. Not so much the return with a larger retinue that the pretty red-haired sister had. The older boy was now heir, and ven busier than Arry, or Arya now. So he didn't see him much. Stoneheart never seemed to want her children out of her sight since she was finally near them again, her sad eyes drinking them in and saying much more than she could in her present state.

For a second after recognition, it had been years, she almost seemed happy to see him. But he would never assume as happy as he had been, and very much relieved. He had never stopped thinking of her. So worried and concerned about her being taken by the Hound and what might have happened to her after, once the rumors spread of the Hound's raids on villages. He never believed she was alive. It was the biggest shock in his life to see her again. And it was quite awhile before it was apparent that it was not the Hound and someone else responsible for the terrible things that happened. Still, nobody knew what had happened to Arya, or to some, the little orphan boy who was a huge pain in the ass, and who everyone knew not to bother with because he could and would defend himself. Or even who she really was in the case of the girl that had married the now dead Ramsay Bolton. He was relieved to have never have known of that business when people really believed he had married Arya Stark. He shook his head, wondering just how he would have taken the news back then.

He watched her walk and remembered their reunion a few weeks ago when they both had arrived within days of each other.

She was angry at him. For a minute he felt relieved and the stirring of something familiar which brought a bit of comfort. He could tell before she even started to yell, what with the stubborn tilt of the chin, the hard lines of her lips, and the gray eyes that fairly snapped in anger. It had been comical when she was younger and smaller because the soft, round, little face containing that much anger was amusing. He had once told her that when she was pissed, her cheeks puffed up like a squirrel and she had hit him over the head with whatever object was nearest. He wasn't sure if calling her a squirrel or his laughter had pissed her off the most. But this was different.

He had seen her lose her temper before, many more times than he could count. He couldn't believe it and was shocked at how quite resentful she was, not understanding why. He had no idea what had happened to her. Arya was there and then she was gone. And the Hound was gone. And they had looked everywhere for them until so much time passed that they knew it was hopeless. He had thought about her all the time and had missed her, mourned her presence really. She was the bravest of them. He realized only after she had been taken from them that she actually gave him some strength, some courage, just being around her, because she was fearless in the face of disaster. And they had had one after another. So what could he do after so much time had passed and with no word of her? He stayed with the Brotherhood, protected the orphans, helped out Willow, and counted his blessings that at the end of each day he was alive. He could continue working and hoping the wars would end eventually, yet not sure what he would do if they should.

She was angry at him. She blamed him for joining the Brotherhood and felt that somehow that caused her being taken by the Hound. Or so it sounded like that. All his attempts to dissuade her and ask if she was raving mad and how he was responsible just made her angrier. She argued with him as if he had somehow betrayed her. She would never know that the minute he had heard she was missing, in the dark, in the rain, he had ran to the forge for his bull helmet and his hammer, and told them he was leaving and that he could still catch up to her.

They looked at him with his belongings and said nothing.

The Brotherhood didn't move fast enough for his liking and looked at his plaintive, pleading and yet stubborn face thinking him foolish and with pity. But they were hardened, and were so used to loss sp that the pity was all for him, almost an air of him having to get used to it as they had. Beric had looked down for a moment, almost remembering that he had lost most of himself. They wanted her back too for various reasons, but it hadn't made them move any faster.

He had tried everything. They had to move fast. She was young, she was his friend. She was only a little girl. She had been good…hadn't caused too much trouble. She was a highborn young lady and it was their duty. He had gotten a look or two and even a chuckle regarding the lady part as Lem seemed to rub his nose, but he had ignored it in his panic and frustration…

So she continued to yell at him and then told him that they did not have a smith at Winterfell. He offered to stay on until she did. The yelling ceased but she didn't seem any less perturbed.

It was Spring. He had worked for a few hours and decided to rest under a tree when he saw her again, guessing that she had not come around to talk to him for several days purposely. And he couldn't help the slow smile. He marveled how someone had talked her into it and then gave homage silently to their bravery for even suggesting it. She hated dresses.

She came toward him as he sat under the tree. The light woolen dress hugged her tall frame and the womanly features that had developed since the last time he'd laid eyes on her before her return home. Her leather boots were tall and worn and her hair was long but the sides were tied back. He willed away the smirk that threatened to appear as she came closer. They had not been brave enough to suggest a ribbon. But the twine would do.

She considered him for a moment, but then she looked around the courtyard and perhaps further. Her mind elsewhere before she spoke. "I am going to leave but I will be back," she informed him firmly.

"Where are you off to now?" He gazed up at her from his seat under the tree.

"I think it's only right, he…he can stay here too…I think I should find Hot Pie," she stammered, almost sounding unsure of herself.

"But what if he isn't at the Inn anymore? You know war has passed there, and even before was never safe…around there."

"I can try. I should at least try. He was in our wolf pack, you know," she sounded more determined, almost as if she drew strength from his doubtfulness.

"Our…what?" He asked in surprise. His black eyebrows knitted, but his tone was casual.

"Forget it. So were you until you left and joined them." She grumbled accusingly.

"Are you really going to start with that again?" But he was touched. He had only belonged to Mott and before that his mother. He never knew she considered him…

"Stop being stupid! Wolves are loyal. We never forget our brothers and sisters. I can at least try." Her arms were crossed against her chest stubbornly, as the toes of her boot kicked the nearest rock, almost absent-mindedly.

"You're not going alone are you?" he asked with concern.

"No. I have some…people that I can take with me. But I don't need them. It would be easier if I went alone. The war is over." He knew that expression. She was going.

"The scavenging is not. Fine, I'll go too." He spread his arms wide obligingly and pushed his hands towards the grass to raise himself to standing. "I can help you and I wouldn't mind…he did grow on me after awhile," he grinned.

"No. I think you should stay here." She pushed him down before he could rise.

"Am I not a part of the pack anymore?" He tried the word out carefully trying to suppress a grin of being touched.

"Not after you left," she huffed.

He couldn't believe she had seen so much as he gathered, yet still be such a girl about things.

"Well, you won't say no if I really want to come with you." He gazed up at her face from where he guessed he was now forced to not rise from. His eyes were squinting from the sun that shone very brightly.

"I think I already did." Her gray eyes looked as hard as metal.

"Why do you hate me?"He didn't mean for it to come out that way, but it did.

"I don't hate you, but your loyalty has been tested once and you…"she rambled.

"You were taken from us if I remember it right," he offered calmly.

"But…but before that…you didn't even talk to me about it or say anything, you just told Ser Beric and that was that."

"I had no place in this world. You did. Did you think I could really go with you?"

"Yes." She gave a strong and exaggerated nod. "You could have gone to Riverrun too."

"You do know now that we would never have made it to your family." He reminded her gently.

"So, stupid, you did what you did and you didn't know either." She did not take the reminder kindly.

"I really thought you would know where I was at least, once you made it to your grandfather's and maybe you could have sent for me eventually, or maybe I could have just gone to you."

"Of course you did. You are so stupid," she yelled. She threw up her hands and turned her back to him, but then turned again. "Weren't they looking for you too?" She rolled her eyes in disbelief.

He patted the grass next to him and tried not to smile. "Sit down, next to me for a moment. I want to tell you something." He waved an arm where there was a torn piece of blanket where she could sit.

She rolled her eyes and sucked in her breath with impatience. But she flopped down in a very unladylike yet swift and agile manner, and nowhere near the blanket. He had to smile.

She made a face at him.

"Your dress will have grass stains."

"Does it look like I bloody care, stupid?"

"Are you ever going to not be mad at me?"

"No."

"Why?" He asked in curiosity. His blue eyes fixated on her face.

"You know why."

"No, I don't really."

"I just told you why." Her palms slapped both knees as she sat cross-legged.

"You know, we looked for you. I looked for you. We looked for weeks and then still followed any word of you for months." He looked sheepish but sincere. Why did it seem to make her more pissed?

He put a rough hand on her shoulder. She slapped it off.

"I did miss you, you know."

"Not when you joined the Brothers and broke up the pack." She tried to rise but he pulled her down next to him again.

"Maybe you broke up the pack when you were taken." He did sound stupid, he thought, but he said it anyway.

"I didn't go because I wanted too, stupid. Really, Hot Pie broke up the pack first." He wondered if maybe her anger wasn't entirely toward him.

"Yet you're trying to find him. So you'll forgive him and not me?" He didn't like to guilt anyone, but he wasn't exactly making anything else he said reach her.

"You know better." Her eyes widened, and her tone was more one of sympathy yet annoyance. "Hot Pie, well, he…he can't fight. He could only make pies so he really couldn't do much else. It was bake pies or die. He had no choice."

He laughed out loud, unable to control himself. He bent over where he sat underneath the tree and held his side.

She punched him in the arm and he laughed louder, his shoulders shaking. She looked around and saw that his roar of laughter had reached the courtyard. People had turned but then went about their business. They knew better than to ask. He was a good boy, worked hard, kept to himself, and the lady they knew, could take care of herself.

He grabbed her arm mid-way before another blow, to his chest this time, and she wriggled about and struggled to get his grip off her.

He looked at her. "You have changed so much. You are even prettier than I remembered."

"It has been a few years…I've grown," her voice trembled, and she chose to ignore his last.

She paused and then reconsidered. "And you told me I was pretty once." She cringed remembering the embarrassment of the acorn dress. She had beaten him though to get back at him.

"No, I didn't. I just said your dress was pretty and that you smelled better." His smile teased her.

She hit him. "You didn't smell that great on the road either, especially after working the metal and…pretty…you talked to pretty girls and you were so stupid they just left you alone," she spat out.

He stopped smiling and his expression grew serious. "I didn't want her…that girl at the Inn. She was pretty but I didn't."

"Why? You are weird, and stupid."

"No I'm not. I just didn't want to. What would you have thought if…" He turned bright red, his words quickened.

"I didn't care," she threw out, turning her head and not looking at him.

"You cared when I joined with Beric."

"That's different. And I didn't think it would be all right. You are so moody and stubborn and stupid. And you get mad all the time about knights and high born people that I couldn't even see why you would."

"I was knighted."

"He was dead." She countered coldly, tossing her hair, which instantly made her feel stupid and she cringed and then froze, realizing that it was something that she might have seen Sansa do once.

"No he wasn't. Not really dead anyway. You know what he was. And it was not the same for you. You are a lady. I'm a bastard and an orphan. At least it gave me something…and maybe a bit more in common with you.

To Be Continued…