The cold wind pulled at her hair, bringing along the smell of fish and sea. Arya stood at the end of the pier, holding her jacket tight. The gray Alaskan skies were cloudy overhead, threatening a storm. Seagulls could be heard in the distance, along with the low horns of fishing boats.

Footsteps sounded behind her, but she ignored the presence.

"Arya." It was her father. Arya said nothing, merely pulling her coat closer.

"Arya you need to talk to me."

"Why should I?" she responded, some bitterness in her voice. Eddard Stark said nothing but sighed and moved to stand in front of her, waiting. Finally Arya broke first.

"I don't want to go. I don't see why I can't stay here with Robb and Jon and everyone else."

"I have been asked personally by the president to come," began Ned. "I can't say no, this could be very important for both our company and the future of a more progressive America. Both your mother and I thought having you girls come along would be beneficial. You will learn a lot in DC."

"Nothing I'm sure I can't learn here" Arya shot back.

Ned paused a moment before continuing. "I'm sorry Arya, but you're going. And then you'll be back in a few months."

"What about school?"

"You'll attend school in DC for the first semester of your sophomore year."

"What about-"

Ned stopped her with a look.

Arya studied her father. She couldn't see the man who had taught her how to ride a horse or finding the richest fishing holes. She didn't see the man who had taken in his sister's son after her death. Nor the man who had sat through every one of Sansa's boring-enough-for-tears violin recitals with the largest smile on his face.

No, Arya could only see the oil tycoon who had struck it rich so shortly after buying out the old Greyjoy Company. It had been headline news, along with many theories of back room deals and unfair trades. He had pushed through those rumors, creating the most successful Alaskan oil company who not only had the best working deals, but was setting records for clean and safe natural resource extractions. This was the man who knew how to run a company, and that didn't include room for negotiations.

Arya huffed, giving in.

Ned smiled. "Come on then. Were leaving soon and I don't think you've packed yet." He put an arm around his daughter and guided her towards the car that waited for them at the beginning of the pier.

"What about this dress? Oh not that one, and here, give me that!" Sansa rushed around the room, which was cluttered with clothes lying across all surface areas. Three suitcases lay open filled to the brim with clothes. The family maid was in there, roped in to helping sansa with her packing, looking frazzled.

Arya, already packed, hovered at the doorway, considering whether or not to enter. Unfortunately the maid spotted her and called out with relief on her face.

"Arya! Come help with the packing!"

Arya backed away but Sansa had already spotted her and was moving her way.

"Yes please help me!" Sansa begged. As she pulled Arya further into the room, the maid edged out and hurried down the hall.

"Why? You seem determined to pack all your clothes." She remarked."If that's the case I have no job here."

"Well I'll be packing enough of them. We're going to DC for almost six months!" Sansa squealed. "Getting out of old and smelly Alaska and into the city of lights!"

"I'm pretty sure that's Paris" muttered Arya under her breath, but Sansa didn't hear her.

"Just think. We'll be near the first family and who knows what will happen! That's why I have to always look my best."

Arya shoved some dresses off Sansa's bed, making room for her to flop onto it.

"Hey! Those are nice dresses!" Sansa yelled at her, hurrying to get them of the floor.

"I don't know why you bother with them Sansa. Jeans are way more comfortable."

"It's called fashion, and you wouldn't know it if it hit you on the head."

Arya made a noise of protest, but before Sansa could go on any further, their mother appeared in the doorway.

"Please hurry Sansa, you'll be leaving shortly." Catelyn ordered. "Get it all in the bags and in the foyer or it's not going with you!"

As Sansa squeaked and doubled her packing efforts, Catelyn smiled at Arya lying miserable on the bed.

"I think there are some people waiting to say goodbye to you Arya."

At that Arya jumped off the bed, scattering more clothes and drawing more complaints from Sansa, but she was already hurrying down the hallway. She reached the grand staircase that lead to the bottom floor and rushed down them, almost tripping on the last few steps. Arya rounded the corner to find the rest of the stark children waiting in the living room.

Robb and Rickon were on the couch, Rickon showing the former a new toy, and Bran in his wheelchair had managed to entangle Jon in a thumb wrestling match. Rickkon was the first to see her.

"Arya!" He shouted, causing Robb to turn around and smile upon seeing her. Rickon leaped off the couch, brandishing a giant nerf gun.

"Hands up!" He yelled, firing a foam dart that Arya just barely dodged.

"No! You're a cheat!" The cry came from the direction of the thumb wrestling match. Jon had his face in his ands groaning while Bran sat smiling.

"How is that possible? How'd you beat me?" Jon demanded to know.

"All the strength that was supposed to be for my legs went to my upper body, therefore allowing me to be the best thumb wrestler there is, and ever will be." Was Bran's answer.

Arya glanced at Bran's wheelchair. She hardly ever noticed it now, with Bran having had it since he was 8, after a disastrous fall from the top of the family's roof. Now 5 years later Bran was doing just fine, but the family still worried about how he was doing mentally.

"Hey Arya, didn't you win a round against him once?" Jon's question drew Arya from her thoughts back to the present.

"Nah" She shook her head. "He let me win. Bran felt bad that I had the flu and took pity. It was a miserable win."

"Whose Nerf dart is this?" Came from the doorway. They all turned to see Catelyn holding up the green foam dart, her lips pulled tight. Out of the corner of her eye Arya saw Rickon try to hide the gun behind him, but so did Catelyn.

"Rickon, I told you. Don't leave these around the house." Rickon hung his head. Catelyn turned her attention to Arya.

"You have 5 minutes before its time to go. Say your goodbyes while I get Sansa to bring all her luggage down." She turned and left the way she came.

Arya tuned to look at her brothers. There was a moment of pause before Rickon ran to hug her, hitting her with the nerf gun in the process.

"I'll miss you Arya."

"I'll miss you too Rickon."

She waited out the hug and when he let go, Arya moved to Bran and Robb, saying her goodbyes to each of them.

"I wish I was staying here with you guys."

"Come on, enough moping, I'll walk you out." Said Jon. Saying one last goodbye, Arya followed him out and into the entrance foyer of the house.

"Here, I got something for you," Jon said while pulling something out of his pocket, holding it out for Arya to take. She grasped it in her habd tunring it over.

"A Swiss knife?" she asked.

"Hey, they can be really handy. Who knows, it could save your life one day."

Arya snorted. "I doubt it. But-thanks Jon. I'll keep your lousy gift I guess."

Jon laughed before gathering her up in a hug.

"I'll miss you while you're gone. Don't forget about us back here."

Arya hugged him back tightly. "I don't think I could if I tried."

"That's what I'm counting on."

They ended the hug just as Sansa came into the entrance way, Catelyn behind her looking relieved and the maid pushing Sansa's bags out to the car.

"I've said all my goodbyes, let's go Arya. Dad's waiting and I'm ready." Sansa gave a quick hug to her mother and Jon, and then was out the door.

"Go on Arya. You'll do fine in DC, and be back before you know it. Just try not to strangle your sister before it's all over" Catelyn told Arya as she wrapped her daughter up in a hug. Arya squeezed her back before stepping out of her embrace. Giving Jon one last hug, she walked out of the house and towards the car. Sansa called to her, halfway into the car.

"Come on Arya! This is going to be fun!"

Such fun thought Arya. With one last glance at her home with all the people she loved inside, she stepped into the car, and onward to the longest six months of her life.

Somewhere in the depths of the White house, Tryion Lannister was well on his way to becoming drunk. A bottle of alcohol in one hand and a glass on the table next to him. It hadn't taken him long to abandon the glass though and drink straight from the bottle. The room was dark and he had long ago lost track of time.

It had been a trying week to say the least. Robert's decision to bring Ned Stark into things had caused a stir, the nation's foreign policy was coming under scrutiny once again, and Mace Tyrell was giving the Lannister's a hard time. The worst of all perhaps was the unrelenting stubbornness of the Rayder Times to get an exclusive interview with the first family. Tyrion knew they all they wanted was an inside glimpse at all the secrets the Lannister's had shoved under the rug and not, as they claimed, a homely article on the most influential family in America.

Tryion had been doing his best to ward them off. He was rich and powerful and influential enough to sway anyone, even with no real power in the political landmine that DC was. Still, it had still taken the help of multiple people to keep the Rayder times far away from the white house.

The door to his hideaway opened to reveal Jamie. With a curse Tyrion laid his head back and closed his eyes, shutting out the world and the light being let in by the open door.

"And what do I owe for this visit from my dearest brother?" He attempted to say, the alcohol in his system blurring his words.

"A thank you. Any minute the Starks will be here and you are to meet them. I had hoped you'd be a little bit more sober, but I guess drunk you will work just as well." Jamie grabbed the bottle out of Tryion hand. Tryrion's eyes flew open while grabbing wildly for the bottle now out of his reach.

"I wasn't aware I had asked you to be my sobriety sponsor" Tyrion remarked, unable to regain his drink.

"You didn't. Cersei did."

"I do believe she tries her hardest to ruin every good thing in my life."

"This is one thing I agree should be ruined, or you're going to ruin us." Jamie snapped. Tyrion rubbed at his face.

"Oh shush. My delicately drunk ears can't handle loud sounds."

Jamie responded by slamming the door shut, causing Tryion to cringe in pain.

"Will you listen to me? This isn't the time. I need you to get dressed and cover the smell of drunkard before our guests arrive. This is important."

Tyrion stood up, taking a moment to steady himself. Although he stood quite a distance shorter than Jamie, he faced him.

"You don't think I don't? Who do you think set all this up? Oh Robert may think it was his jolly good idea to invite Ned, but if it wasn't for me they wouldn't be coming." Tyrion pointed a finger at Jamie. "Cersei thinks I don't understand the gravity of this situation, and you probably think the same because you can never get your head out of her ass to have a thought for yourself, but I do. Without Ned, and the rest of the Starks as well most likely, our whole plan will fall through." Tyrion walked to Jamie and ripped the bottle out of his hands. "So for putting the weight of the nation mainly on my shoulders, allow me a happy hour, every hour of the day."

Tyrion stalked to the door and flung it open, grimacing once more at the loud sound. He didn't look back, but walked forward down the long hallways. Thankfully he didn't have to make it all the way to his room before running into Podrick somewhere in the east wing.

"Tryion, I was looking for you-"

"Ah Podrick" Tyrion patted him awkwardly. "I was looking for you. I need . . . what do I need?"

"A change of clothes perhaps?" offered Podrick. Tyrion looked down at his disheveled clothes, dirty and stained.

"Oh yes. That would be most helpful. Oh and maybe something to keep me steadier on my feet. We have guests coming soon."

"Yes right away."

Tyrion watched him hurry to get the requested items. Podrick Payne was a young man, some intern who had made his way to becoming Tryrion's personal assistant. Tyrion supposed Podrick thought this job would lead to a job closer to the central powers of the Presidency, but Tyrion wasn't so sure. The personal lackey of Tyrion Lannister wasn't exactly a stellar job, but Podrick did it anyway.

With a sigh Tyrion set off on the long journey to find his room after all. The Starks were coming, and he had to prepare.

Note:

Hello! So this is the first anything I've done so we'll see how it turns out.

I'm trying to keep most things aligned with cannon (and hopefully not too out of character), but as this is my story there are a few minor altercations like some people don't die and different parings (nothing crazy) but mainly the ages. Most of them are all older, but if the show can do it so can I.

{For reference so far: Robb/Jon-20, Sansa-17, Arya-15, Bran-13, Rickon-10}

All characters belong to George Martin and HBO's Game of Thrones.