Arya softly puttered around her room, gathering the few things she would take with her to King's Landing. She'd arranged the night before for her horse to be packed and waiting for her once the sun rose. She gave one last look around her room as she unbarred the door. It was the very same one she'd had when she was a little girl, Sansa had it made up for her as soon as Arya had arrived in Winterfell. Her older sister had taken the Lord's chambers at Jon's insistence so her old room sat empty, but she'd set Arya, Jon, and Bran in the rooms they kept when they were children. Theon had been placed in his old room when he arrived as well. It was almost truly home again, but Robb's, Theon's, Rickon's, and Sansa's rooms sat empty like tombs. Reminding them that they would never all be together as they had been.
The last time Arya had left Winterfell it was with Nymeria, her father, and a whole northern host at her side. Even that wasn't enough to keep her out of trouble. She recalled Micah and Lady's death grimly as she opened her door and made her way out of the castle. She was different now, older, and only one thing mattered.
She passed the forge and gave it a quick glance. Gendry. She loved him, and he loved her. She'd wanted nothing more than to have his sleeping form next to her in bed during the night, but it wouldn't have been right for her to ask that of him and then leave like she was doing. It's better this way, better for him and her to part now. Let him have some distance from the girl who killed death before succumbing to her own. Let her rejection of marriage be his last memory of her, it'll hurt less that way.
Arya approached the stables and was surprised to see Sansa standing there. She purposefully began loudly stomping her feet into the snow because she knows Sansa startles easily these days. At the sound of the ice crunching beneath her feet, her sister quickly turns around to face her, "Come to say your goodbyes then?"
Sansa's lip turned downward into a small frown, "Goodbye? Are you going somewhere?"
"King's Landing. I have unfinished business there."
Sansa looked back at the gates, "Don't we all. Why didn't you go with the rest of our men?"
Arya didn't see a stable hand anywhere so she went to get her horse with Sansa walking slowly behind her, "Too crowded."
Sansa laughed halfheartedly, "I'm afraid you're headed to the wrong place if you want solitude."
"It'll only be for a short while. Not like I'm planning on living there, I don't know how Jon will stand it. Can you imagine him in King's Landing?"
The sisters smiled at each other as Arya led her horse to the gates. Sansa took her hand and smoothed down a stray hair on Arya's head, "I'm going to miss you."
Arya looked into her older sister's blue eyes and then pulled her into a tight hug. From this angle, all she could see was Sansa's dark cloak and red hair, and if she tried hard enough she could almost make believe it was her mother that was holding her. They released each other and Arya leaped onto her horse, urging it forward. She halted after a few steps and looked back at Sansa, "I'm sorry about Lady. I never told you that."
"I'm sorry about your friend."
Arya frowned and squinted her eyes, "It was my fault."
Sansa shook her head, "It wasn't. It wasn't mine either. It was Joffrey's for being a weak, cruel, liar and Cersei and Robert's fault for enabling it. We didn't really consider each other before."
"When do the sun and the moon consider each other?" Arya asked, echoing what her father had told her a lifetime ago.
Sansa's eyes cascaded from side to side before looking up at her again, "During an eclipse, I would imagine."
Arya nodded before spurring her horse onwards once again. As she crossed the threshold of the gates she heard Sansa's voice call out to her, "I love you horseface!"
Arya smiled as a small tear escaped one of her eyes and whispered to herself, "I love you too."
Arya traveled for the better part of half a day before she saw him, and he was hard to miss as always. He had always been too tall by his lonesome but it was even worse when he was on horseback. His hair was a dark soiled mess of grease and blood in her memories of him but freshly washed it almost reached a sandy blonde in sharp contrast to his dark beard. It was almost like his body couldn't decide if he was a westerlander or a northerner. Arya knew he wasn't of the north but he did a damn good job acting like one of them. Rude, brutish, and honest, like the blood of first men ran through his veins the same as her.
She sped up to gain on him before slowing her horse down to a walk as she approached him. He scoffed at her before throwing the dried meat he was eating on the ground, "For fuck's sake."
"Good to see you too Hound."
They greeted each other in their way with murder as their mutual equilibrium before he grumpily accepted her as a traveling companion. "That's a nice horse."
"Your sister's doing."
"Did she see you off? I wondered why she was at the gates."
He nodded and they continued on in comfortable silence, much like it had been when they trekked through half of Westeros together. This time was bound to be better though, for one she had her own horse, they weren't starving, he wasn't burning up with infection, and she didn't have to deal with his armor digging into her side. He wasn't wearing armor at all this time, but she guessed there was no need. What's the use of armor going into a fight you're not planning on surviving? As they rode on through the day, Arya found herself pleased they were traveling together. There was no question that Cersei and the Mountain would be together in King's Landing so it made sense, and if she had to die fighting beside anyone she was glad it was going to be him.
As the daylight waned Castle Cerwyn came into view and Arya pulled a hood over her head. The Hound gave her a strange look, "We'll get better rooms if you keep that down. Better wine too."
"I don't want the attention, do you?"
He didn't respond and they continued on, reaching the castle as dusk claimed the sky. The Hound scowled, "The days are still short, looks like winter is still here even if you killed that dead cunt."
"Of course winter is still here. It's coming for the lions in King's Landing."
The Hound rolled his eyes at her as they trickled through the castle's gates with other soldiers who were straggling behind. They were given a tiny room with a few cots and furs shoved against a wall. Arya made a fire while the Hound went to the kitchens for some food. When he returned he slumped against the cot furthest from the fire and motioned toward the tray he'd brought in. Arya greedily grabbed a large portion of stew, letting the hot wooden bowl warm her hands as she carefully slurped from it. The Hound took a deep swig of a wineskin, "Shit bed, but it's the best we'll have for a while. It'll be cold and rough until we reach the Riverlands."
Arya nodded in agreement watching keenly as he slyly rubbed the leg Brienne had injured. "You going lame Hound?" she poked at him.
"Fuck off."
"How did you survive anyway, was there actually a maester hiding behind one of those rocks?"
"Septon."
Arya couldn't help but laugh, "For someone who doesn't believe in the gods, they sure seem to like you. First the Lord of Light and now the Seven."
"And you wolf bitch? Did Brienne of Fucking Tarth get you home? No, I'd wager she didn't. You've killed too many people for that to be true, I can see it in your eyes."
"Braavos," was all Arya said.
"Got your pretty sister home, guess the tall bitch fulfilled her godsdamn oath."
"Always pretty."
The Hound shot her a look, "What?"
"Never Sansa, never Lady Stark, never just my sister. It's always your pretty sister."
"I'm a mean fucker, not a blind one. Any man would be a liar if he said she wasn't."
"You spent most of your life guarding Cersei. She's beautiful and you never say as such."
The Hound snorted, "Cersei's as beautiful as gilded dog shit, the little bird's pretty all the way through."
"What did you just say?"
"Do my words offend you my lady?" he smarted.
"You called Sansa a little bird."
"Aye, cause she used to chirp like one of those birds from the Summer Isles. Singing any song her masters demanded."
"You love her," Arya said it flatly as a statement.
The Hound looked at her with stormy eyes and a confused countenance. Arya didn't wait for a reply before continuing, "You used to talk in your sleep. Sometimes I could tell you were having a nightmare but most of the time you would just ramble. It was always little bird this little bird that. Drove me mad."
He gave her a hesitant nod, "It's probably how you say it is. Gods know most of my regrets involve your sister. Wish I could've protected her better, or at least been less of a cunt."
"Does she know?"
He shrugged, "Who knows? But I do know she doesn't need a dog like me nipping at her ankles after all she's been through. I didn't break her in like the Bolton bastard, but I came pretty close at Blackwater."
Arya fiddled with the hilt of her dagger, "What stopped you?"
"I was too drunk, your sister held me and started singing the bloody Mother's Hymn, and I'm not my brother."
Arya smiled softly, "That sounds like Sansa."
The Hound let out a gravely hum, "Balls of iron that one, you know she tried to kill Joffrey the day he executed your father?"
"No, I didn't."
"Little blonde cunt made her look at his head and promised he'd bring her your brother's," he barked out a raspy laugh, "Then she goes on to say maybe your brother will bring her his."
Arya watched dumbstruck as he took a deep drink and continued, "So he has Trant strike her and suddenly she's lunging to push him off the battlements. Lucky for Joffrey I caught her, little twat never knew how close he came to death that day."
"Why did you stop her?"
He tore into a piece of bread and answered with a half-full mouth, "Because she was going to kill him like you're going to kill Cersei, and how I'm going to kill my brother. Seemed like a waste for something so beautiful to die."
Arya nearly blushed, the Hound was brutally honest as ever and his admission made her feel like she was intruding on something private. She felt like she knew her sister better, but tenderness on the Hound made her uncomfortable. She cleared her throat, "I killed Meryn Trant in Braavos."
He gave her a look like he was waiting for her to go on. "Gouged his eyes out and slit his throat."
"Good, he deserved a hard death. Might want to tell your sister that if you ever see her again, I'd imagine she has more than a few scars on her back from the broadside of his sword."
Arya looked into the fire, "It's getting late."
They both made their way to their respective beds and wrapped the furs around themselves. Arya heard his voice grate through the darkness, "Are you going to try to kill me in my sleep like the last time we traveled together?"
"Only if you snore."
It took them four days to reach Moat Cailin and then another six to get through the Neck and into the Riverlands. Arya put her hood up as they approached the Twins. "Seems quiet," the Hound had muttered when they had paid the crossing fee without incident, "Not like last time."
"The Freys are gone, I killed them all when I came home."
The Hound had looked at her with something Arya could only describe as pride.
Ten days later found them near the Trident. They were making their way towards the entrance to Harroway when they spotted soldiers. "Knights of the Vale," Arya commented as she observed the Arryn sigil on their helms, "We must be making better time than we wanted if we're already running into them."
Looking back, Arya would chastise herself for not knowing something was amiss right then. Soldiers surrounding a town is never good news. As the two of them advanced the group of knights turned and rode towards them with their swords drawn. She reached for Needle but the Hound gripped her arm harshly, "There's too many."
Arya's gut twisted and her heart began to beat wildly as they were encircled. Taking a deep breath she tries to channel the steely tone Sansa uses when she orders the Lords of the North about. "What is the meaning of this? I am Arya of House Stark. You dare pull your weapons on me? Let us pass."
Arya shrugged smally as the Hound looked at her like he was stifling a laugh. One of the knights moved his horse to the side creating an opening in their blockade, "Of course Lady Stark, but he cannot," he said motioning with his head to the Hound, "We're here to arrest him."
"On whose orders?" Arya asked.
"Lord Royce's, my Lady."
Arya looked back at the Hound who was gripping the reins of his horse so hard his whole fist was white. His jaw was set and he shook with rage. Arya looked at him with wide sympathetic eyes pleading with him for permission. She knew what it felt like to be so close to something you ache for, only to have it snatched away from you at the last second. She'd felt it when Gendry was sold to the Red Woman, at the Red Wedding, and the Bloody Gate. She didn't want to abandon him, they were meant to do this together. "I'll write to Sansa, she'll make them let you go," she said to him in a hoarse whisper before turning her eyes to the path through the knights.
"Girl," he growled and forcefully grabbed the back of her neck.
She heard the others tense and ready their weapons, but the Hound paid them no mind. "Don't do it."
Arya furrowed her brow, "What?"
"You heard me, it's not worth it. Cersei will die regardless, we both know that."
She felt she could laugh, "What are you talking about?"
He squeezed her neck roughly, "Look at me!"
She met his eyes with her own, "You want to become like me? Revenge is all I care about. You've got your whole life ahead of you if you don't fuck yourself over like I did."
"I thought we both knew where we were going and what was going to happen," she said coldly.
The Hound loosened his hold on her neck and softly cupped the back of her head and gave her an even softer look, "You think I was going to let you die?"
Realization washed over her and she felt numb. She watched as he dropped his weapons to the ground and allowed shackles to be clamped around his wrists. "Sandor?" her voice cracked more than she'd have liked it to.
His head snapped up at hearing his name.
"Thank you."
"If you hurt him I'll slit your throats," she said to the knights as she passed them.
The Trident had always been unlucky for them.