"Finally, a girl is no one." Ja'qen H'gar's voice remained even, but Arya spied the slightest hint of pride in his eyes.
"A girl is Arya Stark of Winterfell and I'm going home."
"A girl should know, there is trouble in Winterfell."
"Trouble? What do you mean?"
"The Boltons have taken your home. Their maester fears for his life. They hold your sister captive. The stories of her torture have reached Braavos."
"A girl will go North and take back her home. She will rescue her sister."
Ja'qen turned, beckoning Arya to follow. They walked through candlelit halls until they reached the apothecary. Here, the Faceless men kept their most prized weapon, poison. Several maesters moved about the huge room, creating and maintaining the arsenal. Every poison known to man, from the Westerlands to Asshai, was produced here, as well as the antidotes.
These maesters were different. They didn't work to save lives, unless it was to tend to an ill or wounded Faceless Man. Their lives were spent creating death. The Citadel supplied the House of Black and White with maesters when needed, and in return, received research data on the effects of the poisons and on new poisons developed. The writings in the Citadel regarding poisons had all come from the Faceless Men.
More than once, when the Citadel had received word that a maester was not being treated well while working for a high lord, the Faceless Men were called upon to remedy the situation. This is how Ja'qen had come to know of the situation in Winterfell. A raven had been sent to the Citadel, from Maester Wolken. He was the Bolton's maester at Dreadfort.
"I have now set up my apothecary in Winterfell.
Lord Bolton's newly legitimized son has fallen ill to the Sothoryan pox.
As he is quite ill, I seek your council."
There was no such thing as a Sothoryan pox, except to the Citadel. It was code for a maester feeling that his life was in danger. In their training, they learned various codes to use in their raven communications with each other. This was the most critical.
"The Citadel has asked for our help with the Boltons. Your sister is in dire circumstances. She is a prisoner. You will be her lifeline."
Ja'qen handed several tiny bottles to Arya. "Free Winterfell from the Boltons and free your sister. When you do that, the maester will be freed as well."
Arya nodded. "I will leave tomorrow for Westeros and Winterfell."
He watched her walk away. It would be difficult to replace her. She'd far exceeded his expectations and become a deadly force to be reckoned with. He'd known all along that her life was driven by the need for revenge, starting with her father's death. After the Red Wedding, he hadn't been surprised when she'd shown up, seeking training. Her family had been betrayed and murdered, and she intended to eliminate every person responsible.
When the other female assassin had asked for permission to kill her, he'd known Arya would prevail. When he saw the girl's head in the Hall of Faces, he knew he was right.
The next morning, Arya boarded a ship headed for King's Landing. From there, she sailed to White Harbor.
At Winterfell, she disguised herself as a Wintertown girl needing work. Ja'qen had allowed her one face from the hall. At first, she simply washed dishes as a scullery maid named Teresa. This was hot, tedious and repetitive work.
After a month, the girl who normally served the meals to the family disappeared. There was whispers in the kitchens that the Bolton son, Ramsey, had killed her.
'Teresa' was selected to be their new server. It was perfect. Just before she carried out dishes of food, an older lady who cleaned the castle pulled her aside.
"Be careful. He'll try to touch you."
"Who?"
"Ramsey, Lord Bolton's son."
"Yes, ma'am. I'll be careful."
Arya made her way out to the great hall where the family ate.
"Hello, melords and melady." She remembered Lord Tywin's admonishment to her.
"Melord"
"I'm sorry?"
"If you're going to pretend to be low born, then you need to say 'melord' instead of 'my lord'."
Lord Bolton smiled, but his vacant, empty eyes were creepier than Ser Maryn Trant's. His wife smiled a warm smile at her. "Hello, Teresa. Welcome to Winterfell." Ramsey was silent as his eyes moved up and down her body. She wanted to cut his throat for leering at her, but knew she must bide her time.
Sansa was not there. But Theon was. He came to the kitchen to gather her tray so he could bring it to her. Arya had to pretend not to know him, but she was shocked at the sight of him. He was thin and timid, nothing like the cocky jerk she'd known years ago.
The next morning, it was Arya's job to deliver Sansa's tray to her after she'd served the rest of the family. Theon was unable to, having been beaten unconscious by Ramsey for trying to help Sansa escape.
"Don't let her leave her room. Ramsey doesn't want her coming out. And don't talk to her. Make sure you lock the door again. " The older lady handed her a key.
Arya balanced the tray with one arm while she unlocked the door. As she entered, Sansa jumped back and gasped.
Arya had to hide her shock at her sister's appearance. She was pale, thin and disheveled. Her arms were bare, and they were covered in bruises and cuts. She was crying. There was several good sized spots of blood on the bed sheets.
As she set down her tray on a table, Sansa stared at her. Arya stared back. True to her instructions, she didn't speak to her.
Noticing the fire had nearly gone out, Arya added more wood to it and stoked it until the room felt warm. Then she looked back at her older sister. She'd never felt so helpless in her life.
Sansa turned around for a moment, and Arya had to swallow bile when she saw the cuts, bruises and gouges that covered her bare back. There was not an inch untouched.
Satisfied that the fire was roaring sufficiently for the time being, Arya turned to leave. She gave a small bow.
"Melady"
After locking the door behind her, Arya took a deep breath.
"No one touches a Stark and gets away with it."
Now that she knew how dire her sister's situation was, she was very glad she was there.
Inside the bedroom, Sansa stared at the door. There had been something familiar about the servant girl who'd brought her breakfast, though she was sure they'd never met. As their eyes had met, Sansa felt like the girl could see into her soul.
Arya brought her sister her evening meal as well. She also managed to bring a few pieces of firewood, and stoked the fire again.
The next morning, Maester Wolken met her in the kitchen as she prepared Sansa's tray. He placed a cup of tea on the tray and briefly tapped his belly. "Lady Sansa is ill in the stomach this morning, girl." Moon tea. Arya told him she would make sure Sansa drank it.
Then she whispered to him "Valor Morghulis". He quietly looked at her for a moment, then nodded knowingly and whispered back, "Valor Dohaeris".
There was a new bruise on Sansa's arm and new blood stains on the sheet.
Arya handed the tea directly to her sister. "The maester sends tea for your digestion, melady." Sansa nodded and quickly drank it.
Before Arya left to lock her sister in her prison, she turned to look in her eyes. Sansa returned her gaze. Arya knew it was time to make her moves.
That night as she plated everyone's meals, she pulled a bottle out of her small clothes. Manticore venom. This she shook over Lord Bolton's food. To mark the plate, she put a tiny smear of the gravy on the edge.
For Ramsey, she used another bottle of poison called The Long Night. Not to be confused with The Long Farewell, which was the favored poison in Doorne. To mark this plate, she moved the piece of meat to the edge slightly.
The Long Night caused total paralysis but the victim was still aware and could feel pain. Death was certain, but not for days.
As Arya served the Boltons their meals, she acted as nonchalant as possible. As she walked the dishes and pans, she heard shouts.
All of the servants ran to the great hall. Lord Bolton lay face down on the floor by his chair. The maester turned him onto his back and checked his pulse, then looked up and shook his head.
Ramsey tried to stand up, but he was unable to move or speak. With much difficulty, Maester Wolken and Arya and several men carried him to his room. As the maester kicked everyone out and examined him, Arya slipped to Sansa's room. Unlocking it, she entered and stood before Sansa.
"Come with me, melady. Your husband is ill. His father is dead."
Sansa looked shocked, but wordlessly followed Arya. Ramsey stared at Sansa as they entered, but was unable to move a muscle.
Maester Wolken told Sansa that her husband was paralyzed completely. He pulled a knife out of the man's pocket and handed it to her before leaving the room. Now it was just the three of them. Arya stared into Ramsey's eyes and pulled off the face she'd been wearing.
"My name is Arya Stark. I'm here to rescue my sister and reclaim our home. You will never hurt a Stark again." The fear and rage was evident in Ramsey's eyes, but he was completely helpless.
"Arya? What are you doing here? Why did you have a different face? What is going on?"
Arya turned to her sister. "I joined the Faceless Men. They sent me here to rescue you and our home." Arya nodded towards Ramsey. "He'll never move again. I made sure of that. He's all yours." Sansa looked at the knife in her hand and then at her husband and then at Arya.
Arya nodded at her and excused herself and went to the great hall where Lord Bolton's body still lay on the floor. Theon stood over it, shocked.
"Theon, help me get him."
"Not Theon. Reek."
Arya grabbed his arm. "You are Theon Greyjoy. You're free now. Ramsey is upstairs in his bed, completely paralyzed. Lord Bolton is dead. Now help me."
The two of them dragged him to the kennel, where Arya stole his face and fed the rest of him to the hounds.
Wearing his face, she retrieved several barrels of ale and added The Long Farewell to them, then her and Theon brought the ale to the Bolton army outside the Winterfell walls. Arya, wearing Lord Bolton's face, barked out that it was just for the soldiers.
As they started to drink it down, the two of them walked away. When they were out of site, Arya removed the face. Seeing Theon's reaction, she steered him to a quiet corner. There she explained that she was a Faceless Man and what that meant. Then she gave him a knife and sent him to Ramsey's room.
Arya made her way to the maester's chambers.
"The Faceless Men sent you?"
"Aye. I'm Arya Stark. The Citadel received your raven requesting help and called upon us. I was already coming here, so I was given the task."
"Thank you."
"Now that Ramsey is incapacitated, you'll see to my sister's wounds?"
"Aye. I will."
"Send a raven to Jon Snow at Castle Black. Tell him we are here and have possession of Winterfell."
"Yes, my lady."
Arya slowly made her way back up to Ramsey's room, unsure what she would find.
Sansa and Theon had definitely doled out an eye for an eye. Every wound he had inflicted on them was given back to him.
Down the hall, Miranda could be heard calling him. Arya quickly dispatched her as she appeared in the doorway.
Maester Wolken brought Sansa down to his chambers to treat her wounds. The slices and abrasions were easily treated, but the flayed patches on her back, thighs and buttocks would take weeks to heal. She was missing two toes.
For several days, Ramsey remained alive but paralyzed. For those days, it was made sure of that he felt the same suffering he'd inflicted on others. When the maester said he was near death, he was given to the hounds.
Sansa and Theon were now truly free.
Arya left Winterfell in Sansa's capable hands and headed to the Frey's, promising to return after avenging the deaths of their mother, brother, unborn niece/nephew and sister-in-law. Jon sent a raven saying he was bringing 5,000 wildlings south of the wall and returning to Winterfell. Rickon and Osha returned to Winterfell after hearing that the Boltons were dead. Some time later, Bran returned with Meera Reed.
All of the living Starks had returned to their ancestral home. They gathered in the crypt, in front of their parents' statues. No matter what came their way, they would face it together.