Arya chewed her lip. One of the servants had come to tell her she had a visitor, and she was trying to suss out who it could possibly be as she slid Needle into its home at her side.
Maybe they've got it wrong. Sansa is the Lady of Winterfell; they probably want to talk to her.
Although conversation was not a strong point of Arya's- she preferred fighting to greeting strangers to Winterfell- she would go down and see who it was.
It can't possibly be someone from King's Landing.
As she snatched the old coin that Jaqen H'ghar had given her once from under her pillow, her heart suddenly stopped.
What if it IS him? What if he wants to show me how to change my face?
As she flung the door open and the sounds of talk and smell of the kitchens came to her, she dismissed the thought.
It couldn't be. He doesn't know where Winterfell is… but that wouldn't stop Jaqen.
Her footsteps were silent as she flitted down the corridor.
Light as a feather. The memory of Syrio Forel brought her to a halt, when she suddenly remembered Beric Dondarrion brought back from the dead, reborn in the flames of the Lord of Light.
That was far too long ago. He would have found me sooner. A master would never leave his pupil untaught.
She continued to run.
As she went past a tapestry hung upon the wall, she stopped once more. The Direwolf was Grey, like the Stark Sigil, but the skills of the weaver had been so masterful that it appeared white in the light of the moon suspended in the upper corner.
What if it's JON? As she ran even faster, her heart flying, she could feel his warm hand mussing her hair, his smile as he had given her Needle, his voice when he had told her to stick them with the pointy end.
As she neared the bottom of a staircase, through a window the shadow of a raven streaked across her face. She remembered the last raven they had received. It had said Jon had been elected the new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and she knew Lords were far too busy doing Lord things to bother visiting sisters.
But yet as she neared the Great Hall, where someone unknown awaited her arrival, there was a voice within whispering he's coming home where he belongs.
You'll find out in a moment.
She placed both hands on the enormous oak doors and they swung open with a mighty groan, announcing her arrival.
The Great Hall was well lit, with a roaring fireplace burning merrily away. In front of it stood…well…he was not Jon Snow or Jaqen H'ghar.
Syrio had dark skin like him, but his is much darker. He's even got Syrio's bald head.
She took a few tentative, silent steps. The doors shut with a thunderous boom.
They were alone.
Whoever he was, he looked unlike anything Arya had ever seen before. For a moment she took him for a man of the Night's Watch, for he was dressed all in black. But as she neared him she realised he did not wear the furs required for life on the Wall. She couldn't quite say what material it was he wore for a coat, but it looked more like leathery skin than anything else. The boots on his feet were even more foreign. Do they really dress like that in the Free Cities?
He had to be from beyond the Narrow Sea. No one in Westeros dressed like that.
He might even be from beyond the Jade Sea.
The feeling of wonder was quickly overshadowed by suspicion, and she placed one hand safely on Needle's hilt.
As if he had been waiting for this action, the stranger turned to face her. It was then that Arya saw he wore an eye patch. Sprouting from beneath where his eye should have been were scars shaped like the veins on her wrist.
Perhaps Beric Dondarrion took his eye, and he took Beric's in return.
The eye that stared at her was hard but respectful. When he opened his mouth to speak Arya heard an accent that she doubted was from beyond even the Jade Sea.
"Arya Stark?"
It had a certain edge to it, whereas people in Braavos had elegant, curving accents and those Westerosi-born spoke as plainly as the land. This voice was completely different. It sounded as if it had spoken a War entirely on its own.
"Yes? Who are you?" She made a reply, hoping she sounded as unforgiving and wise as he did. Yet she couldn't escape her excitement at the same time.
"My name is Nick Fury," He explained, as her heart quickened,
"I am here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative."