I own nothing! All characters belong to George RR Martin.

Well, this is my second fic, and I want to dedicate it to crushnotsosecret, who gave me the idea for this one by saying that she would like to know more of Arya's story in the other fic. ^^ I hope you like it!

This fanfic is a SPIN-OFF of my SanSan fic "The Crime of Love", so those who haven't read it might want to do that before? This fic contains a bit of spoilers from the other fic. It centers about Arya's life in the period of time covered between part 2 and 3 of the other fic, which was not deeply described.

The first chapter in this story happens after chapter 16 in the other one. Oh, and it's based on events of the show.

ENJOY!

It was the biggest feast that had been held in Winterfell in a very long time, and hundreds of northeners were happily eating, drinking, singing and dancing, celebrating the return of the Starks to the reconstructed seat of their family. They were celebrating that they had a new liege lord, Bran Stark, who sat on the principal chair in the largest table with his direwolf Summer by his side. At his right, in the place of honor, was sitting his sister, the beautiful Lady Sansa Stark, who was dressed in a beautiful white laced gown, and her shoulders were covered by a yellow cloak with three black dogs on it. For there was a second thing being celebrated that night at Winterfell: Lady Sansa's marriage to Sandor Clegane.

It was the second time that Sansa was married to a Clegane, but contrary to the first time, right now she couldn't have been happier. She was glowing, and her husband was sitting by her side, with the good side of his face facing her. The northeners, instead of hating him like they had done in the past, now liked him. They all knew of how he had sailed across the Narrow Sea all the way to Slaver's Bay to convince the Dragon Queen to return to Westeros, and succeeded; how he had fought valiantly in King's Landing against the Lannisters, and won; how he had returned Lady Sansa and Lady Arya safely to the North. Yes, now they all knew that he was a good, decent man. What some of them didn't like, though, was that he had fathered Sansa's bastard son while he was still the King's dog, and she was still betrothed to that same King, Joffrey Baratheon. But that didn't matter now. The child had died upon being born… or so had they been made to believe.

Arya Stark was enjoying the feast from her seat besides Rickon, who was sitting at Bran's left. Before going to King's Landing, she always amused herself by throwing food to her sister, but she wasn't going to do that now. She didn't want to spoil her sister's especial day, Sansa deserved to be perfectly happy after so much suffering… And Arya was starting to like the Hound. Perhaps he wasn't such a bad option for a goodbrother after all. Arya stoop up from her chair and walked towards the newly weds. Sansa smiled broadly when she saw her sister approaching her.

"Arya!" They gave each other a big, tight hug.

"I'm happy that you are happy" Arya said, and she really meant it. Then she stared sharply at Sandor. "I'm warning you. If you ever hurt my sister, I'll make sure that you end up being uglier than you already are."

Sansa's mouth fell wide open in shock.

"Arya!" she exclaimed for the second time that night, this time scolding her sister. Sandor, on the other hand, smirked.

"And I'm warning you too, she-wolf. If you ever walk in on us, I'll kick you in that bony ass of yours, understood?" before he even finished the threat, Arya had an awful look of disgust on her face.

"Seven hells!" she exclaimed, making both Sansa and Sandor laugh, which annoyed her. "It's not funny, it's disgusting! Yuck!"

"Aye, you're saying that now" Sandor kept saying, still smirking. "But wait and see if you keep looking so disgusted when you find someone that rings your bells for you… Oi!" Sansa had smacked him on his broad chest, covered only by a yellow velvet doublet. "What was that for, little bird?!"

"Language!" was all she said, but she started laughing after a few seconds. Sandor grinned and leaned in to kiss her.

"Yuck!" Arya ran away from then and ack to her chair as fast as she could. Apart from being a bit disgusted, she was red from embarrassment, and she didn't know why. She was so upset from those unknown reasons that she didn't notice Jon staring at her with an amused smile on his face. He was sitting in the Stark tale as the guest of honor, not because he was their astard brother, because he wasn't. He was their cousin, Jon Targaryen. He wasn't a member of the Night's Watch anymore: as they only living relative of Queen Daenerys Stormborn, and given that she was barren, he was the only heir of the Targaryen dynasty, so he had been relieved from his duties, and he had been made Lord of Dragonstone. Besides, he had also been free to marry the former wildling Ygritte. The girl had adapted incredibly well to life on that side of the Wall, and though she was a little wild spirit, she was learning how to become a lady. A warrior and a bit inappropriate lady, but still a lady.

"What's with that dace?" Jon asked Arya, and then he saw that Sandor and Sansa were still kissing. He quickly figured out that that was the reason why Arya looked like she was aout to throw up, and that seemed to amuse him. He laughed, which annoyed Arya even further. "Really? After all the times that you've seen them like that, it still bothers you?"

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"I'm married, Arya! I do that all the time!" Jon exclaimed, and Arya made a face.

"Yes, but you are not married to the Hound, you don't kiss him, right?"

It was Jon's turn to make a face, and he turned green. "Oh, gods!"

Ygritte laughed, and Arya smirked.

They saw how Sandor and Sansa stood up from the table to go to dance… or better said, how Sansa dragged Sandor with her to go to the dance. Jon poked Arya in the shoulder, and next thing she knew, she was on her feet being forced by her brother (cousin!) to dance. She tried to get away, but he didn't allow it.

"Come here Arya! You have to dance with me!" he laughed.

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do! What? You don't want to dance with me?"

"No, I don't!"

"Now I'm hurt" Jon said, even though he was still laughing. He finally let go of the girl and he went to pick up his wife, who squealed (squealed? Ygritte squealing? Bloody hells, she needed to spend less time with Sansa!) and they went off to dance.

The son of some lord went to ask Arya to dance, but all he got was a glare from her.

"Don't even think about it" she said, and the boy backed off. Well, he wasn't exactly a boy… He was an attractive young man of about ten and five, or ten and six. That only made Arya frown, since when did she get the attention of attractive young men?!

She didn't realize that she had started to change. She was ten and four (she had been ten and three when they returned to Westeros, and the rebuilding of Winterfell had taken an entire year at a really fast pace and with a lot of help) and she was much taller than she had been before. Her hair was long, and clean, and it wasn't as messy as before. At that moment, it was loose and curly. Her face was pretty, her features a bit sharper though her face was still a bit round, her lips were full and her eyes were big and grey and beautiful. Even her body was changing, becoming more… curvy. She didn't pay much attention to these changes, but it appeared that men and boys did.

The dancing was suddenly interrupted when Bran asked for silence, and they all looked at him. He had an announcement to make. Sandor seemed to know already what his goodbrother wanted to say.

"Don't you dare…!"

Bran didn't listen to him.

"Time for the bedding!"

The northmen roared and raised their cups, and all of a sudden, Sansa was in the air, lifted by the hands of the same northmen that had roared before. She was laughing and squealing, and she let them carry out of the room towards the stairs while they got her ready for her husband. Sandor couldn't move, suddenly finding himself surrounded by women that were trying to take his clothes off and lead him to the stairs too. His protests were silenced by the happy exclamations of the women. Arya saw that Ygritte joined them, and soon after they made Sandor get out of the room to walk him to his chambers for his wedding night.

Arya had stayed behind watching, and even though she didn't want to, she laughed. How couldn't she, when she saw the Hound being overpowered by a bunch of northern women? After she finally stopped laughing, and the women and men started returning (which meant that Sandor and Sansa were probably destroying their bed chambers at that very moment) she felt bored. She couldn't go to her own chambers, because they were right next to Sandor and Sansa's and she didn't want to hear anything of what was going on there. She would have gone out for a ride, perhaps, if it hadn't been pouring for hours, and it wasn't likely that it would stop anytime soon.

That was going to be a very long night…

She had just sat back down again on her chair, and she was drinking wine from her cup, when she saw the guards coming into the great hall. One of the guards looked at Bran, who hadn't moved from his place the entire time.

"My lord" the man bowed before continuing to speak. "A man arrived, my lord. He says he knows Lady Arya."

Arya frowned again, and she stopped drinking, though her lips were still on the cup. That's when she saw that there was a man with them, dressed as a commoner and soaking wet. He was looking down, so she could only see his black hair. He was tall, and strong. Did she know him? How?

"Who are you?" Bran asked, and the man raised his head to look ahead to the two Starks.

Arya dropped her cup, spilling wine everywhere. Luckily, no drops feel on her, but she didn't care anyways. She could only look at those blue eyes who elonged to the person whom she believed dead since years ago. everyone looked at her when she cried:

"Gendry!"

I hope you liked it!