Jon Snow sighed as he rubbed his hands agitatedly against his face. His hair pulled back away from his face and into a tight mane at the back of his face. There were rumours of a lone hooded figure with great sparring skills heading towards the North, rescuing villages from the tyrant Ramsey Bolten's rule. He was trying to track down the individual, intending to form an alliance with him. A sudden prickle at the nape of his neck startled him enough to draw out his sword and point it at the hooded figure behind him.
A loud clang echoed in the room
"Woah. Careful there." A familiar voice rang out from the shadows, as the silver of a sword flashed in the light. Another harsh clang was heard. The hood slipped back to reveal a familiar face. She had matured over the years, but her good features that resembled Lady Catelyn Stark still remained.
"Arya Stark!" You were still alive…" Stunned, he looked at the grown woman in disbelief. Having long believed that she had been deceased since there were no news of her. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard you were looking for me, Jon." The woman smiled. It was then that the warrior properly looked at her attire. Her hair was shorn short as she wore male attire with her cloak.
"Oh Arya… What have you done?" he whispered.
"I haven't done anything wrong" Arya Stark smiled as she gracefully walked over to the chair previously occupied, and settled herself down on the hard wood.
"You have killed people." Jon whispered as he stared at the short dagger that the young woman had used to defend herself from his attacks. Her swordsmanship seemed to be on par with his toned and well versed moves.
"I didn't have a choice." She casually poured herself a pint of mead from the jug on the table.
"You always have a choice." Jon wrung his fingers through his hair in despair and then his sight narrowed to the familiar sabier that hung on her belt, a hand casually resting on the handle. "Dear Gods Arya…. Maybe I shouldn't have given you Needle."
The hand tightened in response as Arya gave a dry laugh. "I would've been dead, Jon." She spoke as if she did not care what the consequences were anymore
"But still… I don't know what is worse; you being alive and bitter with more blood on your hands and money than any other woman, or being dead and innocent with not a single dirt on your hands."
"You regret giving me the tools to live?" The beautiful brown haired girl, frowned. As she did not understand why the man she loved and cared as a brother, did not understand her need to live and survive.
"I gave you that sword, Arya. I taught you how to use a bow and arrow. I secretly taught you how to wield a sword."
"Would you have preferred me dead?" The silence was thick and heavy.
"Arya I_"
"Would you have preferred me dead? Because that was the only option I had. Father was beheaded, Robb and mother was murdered, Sansa was a captive at King's Landing and Bran and Rickon… I didn't even know if they were even alive after Winterfell collapsed." She marched towards the dark haired warrior, her eyes brimming with tears as she spat out out the truth as if it was poison. As if the very memories were poison to her.
"You could've come to the wall. You could've come to me. I would've protected you Arya!"
"The moment you took the black, the moment you became a crow, Jon Snow, you had no family. Women were not allowed at the wall and even if I miraculously, take the black, I would've had to give up all my plans and passions for revenge." She turned and walked away.
"And what is your version of revenge? Killing innocent people like sport?" She froze, then she turned. Jon Snow, a man that was not easily fazed, was taken back by the fire in her eyes.
"To gain enough power to kill the Lannisters, to kill all that has killed my family!" Arya Stark walked up to the Commander of Winterfell and looked up to her client "Anyways, why haven't you left the wall? Why didn't you rush to Robb to save father?"
"I had already taken my oath. You know what happens to the deserters."
"But he was your father too! Regardless of the reason, he was your father too."
"Arya…"
"Enough, Jon. You asked for the services of the faceless god for a reason." The silence was thick as hope filled Arya's voice. "Why?"
"You would very well know what it is I want."
"I have my ways." She smiled. The very first since the whole conversation.
"Do you have a price?" He asked, resignedly as she turned towards the door. She turned around as she opened the door.
"None. You are my brother, are you not?"
