Fire and Blood

Chapter Two

Arya

The heavy snowfall had ceased that morning and had been replaced by a light flurry of flakes falling graciously from the bleak sky. It was Arya's favourite type of snowfall, the type that muted all sound. The world could remain peaceful with this snowfall and Arya could for just a moment forget about the horrors in her life and instead build the excitement which had been threatening to overtake her heart as soon as they had received the raven from King's Landing. Jon was coming home. Jon was coming home with Daenerys Targaryen and the largest army Westeros had seen since the rebellion. Arya had little love for politics and had no quarrel with Jon bending the knee. She knew Jon, they had been the outcasts of the family. In her heart she knew that, if Jon had bent the knee, he had had a good reason for it. Her sister on the other hand was stubbornly against this union, claiming that Jon had been selfish wanting a beautiful woman over the need to fight for his home and his crown that she had so dutifully put on his head. Arya had ignored that part of her sister's behaviour, she knew that as soon as Jon explained himself that Sansa would come around.

"There's no point making yourself hate it Sansa, you will need to come around soon enough. We need to show a united front. The lords look to us for leadership, we need to show them that we are strong and not divided." Arya had said atop the battlements of Winterfell after the trial. Yet Sansa did what Sansa had always done best. Act superior. Whilst Arya respected the hardships Sansa had had to overcome both in King's Landing and their own home, she detested this attitude. Partly because it was ignorant, there were far more important things to consider nowadays, and partly it reminded Arya of the very woman she wanted dead more than any other. Sansa had learnt betrayal and deceit at the skirts of Cersei Lannister and it was starting to rub off.

Bran had also been distant since the trial, holing himself up in his rooms with Samwell Tarly, taking his meals in his solar rather than at the table in the great hall. Arya could sense that there was something he was not telling them, not that he gave anything away, his blank face remained void of all emotion. It was Tarly that gave away the unsaid secret that they spent so many hours discussing. Whenever Arya would go to check on her brother, Tarly would jump out of his seat sending scrolls flying, stammering his greetings and find some excuse to take his papers and leave the room. "Will you ever explain what secrets you are hiding from us Bran?" Arya had asked as she had adjusted her brothers' blankets and helped him into bed.

"When Jon returns, yes" Bran had answered blankly.

Arya had sat on the edge of his bed staring into a face she barely recognised. "You should go outside Bran, it will do you some good, you will need your strength for the coming storm."

Bran had smiled meekly at her. "My mind does not need fresh air to be strong sweet sister."

Arya had not returned to her brother's rooms and avoiding her sister at all costs due to her continuous bouts of irritation, Arya had taken to training with the master of arms and when he was busy, she would help train the girls Jon had commanded to fight. Arya taught them archery and how to wield a dagger effectively at close proximity. The girls were quick and lithe, and they listened to her, often asking her to show them tricks she had learned on her travels and share stories of faceless men and water dancers and the brotherhood without banners. The girls wanted to know her horrors as if they were great songs, when in truth they haunted Arya with every step she took. They would haunt her for life.

The silence of the snow had followed her down into the crypts. Whilst Winterfell prepared for the arrival of dragons, Dothraki, unsullied and the return of their King, Arya looked up into the stone face of her father trying to remember his actual face. It had been kind she thought, kind but full of sadness. In stone Eddard Stark just looked like Lord Stark. It crushed Arya every day, to be in her home and to have her father down here. Her mother should be here too and Robb. Arya had searched for their remains at the twins, but to no avail. Their bodies had been desecrated.

"They should be with you" She whispered in the dark, feeling the tears stinging her eyes. "I'm sorry I could not save them."

Her father lay with his youngest son they had told her. Rickon, the baby. Arya barely remembered him at all. He had been wild. Sansa had told her that RIckon was the sacrifice to get Winterfell back. Jon had not had a statue made for him, instead had commissioned a stone direwolf to be placed at the foot of her father's statue. Rickon had called him Shaggy Dog. Pain overtook her then and she sunk to the floor her hand grappling the stone in front of her. Tears fell thick and fast as she finally found a moment to mourn her family, after so many years. Father and Mother and Robb and Rickon. A new era of Starks ruled the North now, broken Starks who had had to pull themselves back together piece by piece through vengeance and blood and now a bigger threat marched on them, and the hope of the world rested on the shoulders of her bastard brother and an exiled Targaryen.

"Lady Arya" A meek voice stood at the end of the tunnel. Regaining her composure Arya stood brushing down her cloak and turned to the shadow of Samwell Tarly.

"Samwell, I'm sorry, I was just"-
"Lady Stark required your presence in the courtyard."

Her heart raced, and she angrily brushed the tears from her face. "They're here."

The whole household had come out into the courtyard to welcome their King's return with this new Dragon Queen, in the centre Arya stood to the right of Sansa, who had evidently been preparing herself all morning for this arrival. Her hair, so like their mothers had been braided up into a delicate hair net encrusted with purple amethysts and she wore a new cloak a black wolf's pelt fastened to the collar with a dire wolf broch. Arya stared down at her slightly dirty leather jerkin and old fur cloak. Her brother would not care, but what would his new Queen think? She did not give herself time to ponder the thought, as in that moment two deafening roars came from the sky.

One dragon alone was large enough to plunge the whole courtyard into shadow and as the household looked up in awe Arya noticed that Sansa kept her eyes fixed firmly on the gate. The dragons made their landing either side of the outer gate, throwing up great billows of snow obscuring the party closing towards them. Arya took a tentative breath and flexed her hand around the pommel of needle. As a child she had dreamed of meeting Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen, the most formidable dragon queens in history. Never did she expect to meet an actual Targaryen, let a long a dragon rider. Yet through the gust of snow she rode, a top a horse as silver as her hair. Side by side her brother and Daenerys looked how Arya had always imagined a King and Queen to be. Their faces masked in authority, clad in fine armour and fur.

Daenerys Targaryen was indeed beautiful, and indeed the classic description of a Targaryen, her silvery hair and dark violet eyes cast an ethereal aura upon everything making even the pristine snow seem dull. She did not wear a crown, instead a heavy silver chain, pinned at the shoulder of her white furs with a three headed dragon figurine. It was hard for Arya to tear her eyes from this warrior Queen, but her heat yearned to see her brother.

Arya had expected Jon to resemble her father, as a boy he always used to, but the man atop the horse in the courtyard did not resemble Eddard Stark, in fact apart from his dark hair and eyes there was very little in him that was Stark anymore. Yes, he wore Stark clothes, stark armour, there was even a white dire wolf encrusted on the pommel of the sword on his belt, but Jon looked different. His face, although battle worn was far comelier than fathers had even been. His shoulders were broader than father's, and he was not as tall. It must be his mother's looks Arya thought. His mother must have been beautiful.

Jon dismounted a strode towards them. Sansa did not curtsey, she stood her ground her eyes fixed on the silver haired queen dismounting her horse. Jon drew his eldest sister into a hug which Sansa only reciprocated as he moved to pull away.

"Welcome home brother" She muttered, her eyes still fixed on Daenerys Targaryen. Jon pulled back and stared at Arya a small smile of relief on his face.

"You've got bigger" He muttered smiling.

Arya raised an eyebrow staring at his face closely, there were fresh scars and old ones, each painting a story of the battles he had fought since they had last laid eyes on each other. "And you've gotten older"

She was in Jon's arms in a heartbeat like before, her feet off the ground. His arms were stronger now though, he was tougher and older, but in that moment, she felt like a little girl again. All the pain and suffering she had gone through was gone now wrapped up in her brother's arms. The tears she had left down in the crypts were back flowing freely into Jon's furs. "I missed you, big brother" She whispered between tears.

"Aye and you little sister." He said setting her down on her feet and pulling her face close to kiss her head. "You still have it" The shock in his voice was amusing.

Arya glanced down at needle. "Of course, you gave it to me."
"Aye I remember, you will have to show me how you can use it."

Arya grinned. "Soon."

Jon nodded and stepped back subtly wiping his face and turning to his Queen. Daenerys had looked fondly on at the reunion and with a pang in Arya's heart she felt sorry for her. Her family was gone, and by all accounts the brother who had raised her was as mad as their father had been. She would never have a brother's embrace again, or a sister's kiss, or a mother's love.

"May I present Daenerys of House Targaryen, the rightful Queen of the seven Kingdoms." Jon addressed the crowd.

"She has agreed to fight with us against the coming storm. In return once we have fought against the army of the dead, I have pledged the North's forces to fight beside her to take the iron throne, so Daenerys can take her rightful place as our Queen. Let it be known, from this day until her last day the North flies the dragon banner for Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. You will treat her and her party with respect and kindness, yesterdays wars do not matter, we fight together for a better future."