Authors Note: I'm so pleased to see a nice turnout of people reading a reviewing the story. Those of you worried about any Gendrya happening there will be some surprises coming around don't worry, but they aren't endgame either. I would also like to add that this story isn't exactly following a strict plot or timeline, most chapters will be posted out of order to make way for the explanations of the character's changes though it's all quite important to the overall feel of the story. Once again, I haven't decided just yet on a plot, but it's kinda picking up in my head. Enjoy!

~Silver.

Chapter II | The Wolf and His Pup

[Five Months Previous of the Tourney at Kings Landing]

Unlike his wife Ned received almost monthly letters from his daughter, the child that despite the distance he was closest to. Who looked the most like him with her pale skin, lanky limbs, long face and deep brown curls and the flinty grey eyes of his house. Even her chin and nose took his shape, though she had her mother's mouth and eye shape leading to a more almond cut than a rounded one like his, though if anything it made her look even more wolf-like from a young age. Eddard loved his children, his son Robb that looked nothing like him but carried every lesson he taught him well, Bran who was apt with a blade and better with a book or horse, and wild young Rickon who took to a battle-axe as well as any Northern man, then beautiful Sansa with the bell like voice and the tumbles of red curls around her freckled face though she had Lyanna's eye shape though all of the Tully coloring. Eddard loves his little wolf pack, his sons and his daughters equally... except that Arya held a special place in his own beating heart. When she was born she came out screaming, nearly howling really, her tiny hands beating away the ones that held her, pooing rather well into Robb's hands making him guffaw rather loudly. Her own mother could barely hold the child to her breast without Arya screaming and snarling like a tiny monster. But it was quickly realized that Eddard could hold her, he could hold her tiny body in one hand and the moment that he cradled her in his arms - fully expecting the screams, all went silent as she finally opened her eyes. Grey to grey, flinty and they seemed to measure him. She had yet to own her eyes wide enough for the maester to mark them down, he had run a single calloused finger down the center of her face tracing the outline of tiny lips and her chin. He could feel tears falling from his cheeks and watched through clouded eyes as she raised her tiny hands as if to wipe them away, he pulled her up and against his neck where he felt her soft skin snuggle against his. He held her tightly against him and her tiny fingers clung to the wolf fur he wore around his neck. Eddard pulled her away and was once against entranced by her grey eyes, so much like his own, the tufts of dark hair that promised his color on the top of her head, the shape of her nose screamed Lyanna when they were young and for a few moments he wondered if for all her Stark coloring if she'd be like Sansa or Wily Lyanna. It was he who whispered her name, 'arya' in a hushed tone and when the maester asked if he could take her to the Sept to be presented to the Seven it was Ned who held her close to his chest and shook his head, "This is a wolf-pup, she'll be taken to the Godswood." Arya was, wrapped up in the fur of a wolf and laid in front of the weirwood tree, a dab of it's blood-like sap on her forehead as Ned sat in front of her, Ice laying across his knees. Catelyn stood there, awkwardly with he hands on Robb and Sansa's shouler. Ned reached down to grab his daughter from the forest floor and held her to him, "You'll be Stark... ture wild-born Starks, wolfsblood is in you..." He had seen it in Brandon, in Lyanna, in his own father. The wrath of the wolf could be seen in Robb during his training, none of it in Sansa, but Arya was practically bubbling it.

It was no wonder that Catelyn couldn't figure out their youngest daughter. Couldn't quite understand that from a wolfsblooded girl she couldn't form a flower. Catelyn attempted to tame her, burning her boys clothing; Arya just stole more. Taking away her horse; Arya spent the night in the Wolfswood at the base of the Weirwood tree. Ban her from archery; Arya simply stole a tourney sword and practiced in her own room. Catelyn couldn't get her to do a thing. Arya was all grace on a horse, all types of elegance when she wore her leather britches and her cotton shirt as she stepped through a dance of wooden swords. But with upon a dance floor or in a solar she became as clumsy as a newborn, stumbling over her words, pricking her fingers with tiny needles while she played with real blades in the courtyard. To all they saw Arya as a boy, brutish, an unlady-like, unmarriageable and generally rather disgraceful to be born to such a noble and high house. To all Arya remained aloof and rather uncaring, preferring to rebel and make them eat her words. But Eddard knew his daughter best, saw how the jeers of young stable lads and squires called her horseface and ugly made her eyes shine with not anger but shame and her skin redden from not embarrassment but sadness. While the young handmaidens that tended to the girls sneered at the mud-streaked youngster, even her own sister disdainfully treated her, he watched as she seemed to sink lower. His little wolf-pup, the Stark of the family, drip away. He'd watched it with Lyanna, but Lyanna had the support of an elder brother just like her and just as wild. Arya was the wild one, she had no one standing there agreeing with what she did, praising her skills with a sword or her ability to ride a mountain horse with such agility and grace. Ned tried, oh did he try to see her sword work, go riding or hunting with her, he tried to praise her. But it all seemed too late as she grew cynical, seeing ever compliment as a backhanded sneer at her, growing away from the family and spending more time training away. She was wild and rebellious, hurt and confused as to why exactly she was so different from her mild-mannered siblings. Catelyn did not help, abolishing her publicly in front of the household, asking Sansa to help her, bringing Arya's moral lower.

Eddard had seen what such tactic do to ladies like Arya, the forced breeding of young ladies of noble birth had nearly broken Lyanna, only made Maege Mormont more angry and the God's only knew of the stories that came from the South of daughters of noble families being sent to the Silent Sister for their disobedience. They were nearly broken ladies, smiling sweet smiles with dead eyes and Eddard simply knew that he couldn't allow that to happen to his grey-eyed daughter who had a storm living inside her. It wasn't the Red Viper that asked to visit Winterfell, it was Eddard who asked the Red Viper to visit Winterfell. Along with his wife Lyanna and son Jon Martell. If there was anyone that Eddard knew could help his daughter it would be his own wild sister. They had come in a storm of swords and polished armor, with Lyanna wildly enbracing her brother in happy tears, Jon hitting it off fabulously with Robb and Oberyn sending his youngest Sand Snakes to play with Bran. But it was the appearance of young Daenarys Targaryen the Stormborn that was the tipping scale. Oberyn had been entrusted to foster the princess at Dorne and along with this trip to Winterfell had picked up the girl from Kings Landing. She was all platinum beauty with pale skin and long features that were already beautiful even at the age of 12, his own daughter skulked behind him, all dark eyes and hair watching the girl like a wolf. Lyanna had been the first to coax the girl from behind her father's wolf skin cloak, her own around her thin waif like shoulders while flinty eyes stared up at her.

She gasped before crouching down to approach her nieces level, Ned would have sworn upon all the Old Gods and the New that he was looking at a much older Lyanna staring at her younger. "Hello there darling, I'm your Aunt Lyanna Martell."

The girl quirked her head to the side and nodded almost imperiously, "You're Da's sister, the one who went to Dorne. I'm Arya."

"I know you're Arya sweetling."

"I know you're Lyanna aunt."

The smiles were even mirrored to each other, wolfish smirks playing across their lips.

"You're very pretty for a girl of your age."

Eddard knew this too, for all of the teasing it was clear that Arya was growing into her features a bit more.

"You're a liar."

"Arya!" came the gasp of Catelyn be his side, "Apologize to your Aunt."

"No need Cat... now tell me why would you call me a liar Young Arya?"

"Sansa is the pretty one, I'm the ugly horse faced one."

"I see... now does Sansa have eyes color of stormclouds?"

"...no."

"Does Sansa have the skin pale as a weirwood tree?"

"...no."

"Does Sansa have the hair the color of the bark of the Wolfswood's trees? What of the Stark nose or the long face?"

"...no, Sansa looks like a fish."

"Yet you do not. What do you look like Arya?"

"A wolf...?" the words almost came out as a question.

"Aye a wolf, and wolves are misunderstood beings. You wear it as your sigil and it's blood runs hot through your veins."

"Da says that too, he says I have wolfsblood and he said you have it too."

"Aye, I have wolfsblood, lots of it. Makes me a bit different than everyone else, it's strange isn't it? Being the only one like you around, no one else wanting to practice archery or go riding."

"Yes!"

"You feel lonely, sad and confused."

"Yes..." her voice was softer now and Eddard couldn't see the shine of her eyes but he knew it was there.

"I felt the same, for such a long time I did. But it's alright now, everything is alright now."

"Why?"

"Because you find people who love you for you, that's all Pup."

"Oh..."

"Mmmhmm, and there's a girl here who might love you for you if you let her?"

"Who?"

"Dany? Come here please!" the Targaryen princess approached her violent eyes scanning over the Stark who jutted her chin out and stared right back at her, arms crossed over her chest.

"Aren't you gonna curtsy?" the silvery blonde girl asked tilting her head to the side.

"It's my home, you must curtsy first."

"It's my country."

"It's your brother's country."

The stared and all the adults watched the scene unfold as Daenarys took a step forward staring down the grey eyes with her own. Arya right back up, her mouth set into a harsh line as she awaited whatever came. It seemed as though something was being said between them that none of the adults could understand. Something strange as they stared into each other's eyes. Eddard was suddenly overcome with the image of the Sun and Moon standing together. "You are very beautiful..." the dragon girl finally whispered before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, "Show me around Winterfell Lady Arya?" linking their arms together. Arya seemed excited clinging to the princesses arm and nodding enthusiastically.

"Tis just Arya, Princess."

"Then to you I am Dany."

"I think we can agree to that."

Needless to say the whole of the adults were shocked to see the wolf girl taken into gentle hands of Daenarys who she pulled towards the Wolfswood already the fantastic tales of the First Men on her lips. Ned felt a tap on his shoulder and found Oberyn staring after the pair with Lyanna at his side. They both seemed rather determined as they watched his little wolf disappear into the forest's edge.

"We want to foster Arya at Sunspear, in Dorne."

"Done."

It was Catelyn who nearly cried out, grabbing Ned's arm with fevor.

"Arya needs to learn to be a lady, with freedom to choose what kind of Lady. She can learn arms and dance the ways of steel, but with that sort of grace she'll learn control and be able to work through a real ball floor. She is wild and untrained-"

"Lord Oberyn you aren't saying that I haven't raised my daughter correctly are you?" the biting tone made Ned wince.

"Not at all my Lady Catelyn, rather that Arya is a different breed of lady from yourself and your other daughter. You raised her the best you could, but... she needs someone who can understand her. Lyanna does, perhaps the Mormont's if you want to keep her close. The Tyrells though you share no allegiance to them. Martell's are Arya's family, with many women in the ranks of power, she'll flourish in Dorne without the pressure of conventional lady manners. She'll be deadly and beautiful and retain that wolfsblood much like my wife here has." Oberyn snagged Lyanna about the waist, "Do you not want whats best for your daughter Lady Catelyn?"

"Catelyn... please, let me take Arya. She is much like me, she needs to be taught. What better way than with family, you can make further alliances when Arya comes of age and she grows into her looks and her manners. Please, let us foster her Catelyn, she is my niece no harm will come to her."

In the end it was Eddard who had agreed, completely and fully, not even caring for the shrieking of his wife who feared for her daughter. As it were Arya took the news wonderfully, realizing that her and Dany would live together and that she'd learn to fight. They were there for three weeks until Arya was sent away. Poised on a Sand Steed, wearing a long cape made of black wolf fur, her skin-tight leather britches dyed deep black with a long Stark grey riding dress over it, her newly acquired wolf pup Nymeria sitting in a basket and a small Bravoosi blade specially made by Eddard's orders sitting at her waist. She whispered with the princess before leaving Winterfell, hardly looking back at her father who stood solemnly with his fingers curled over Ice and the shine of tears in his mirror grey Stark eyes that shined in hers though she tried to giggle with Daenarys. Both the wolf and the pup knew that if the girl looked back she'd never leave. So Ned left, retreating to the Wolfswood that he often shared with Arya deep in his prayers for her safety from the Old Gods.

Somehow Eddard knew that the girl would never see her ancestral home again, though it pained him to think of such things. But as years passed the letters were frequent and long, detailing days and weeks of training and dances, adventures with Trystanne and Quentyn, rides with Edric Dayne and the pestering annoyance that was Gendry Baratheon when he rode South on the behalf of his father. Daenarys who clung to her side like a burr, who was called the Sun while Arya was the Moon. Her mastery of Bravoosi Water Dancing and a tiny line about a stolen kiss by an unnamed knight though Eddard guessed it to be Edric and Gendry. How she learned to dance from Arianne Martell, spent days with Nymeria and Lyanna. Her dear 'Uncle Obie' who dotted on his niece with such fervor. Then the raiders that attacked Starfall while she stayed a week, the slaying of several raiders by her hand and her wolf earning her a moniker. The gift from a man from Pentos who gave Daenarys stone dragon eggs and they attempted to make them hatch. Breeding sand steeds and growing each month she was from his sight. It would be a blessing to see his daughter again, just once more to see what the girl who was behind all these fantastic stories would seem to be.

He hoped she kept to her Wolfsblood.

End Notes: Well that was a fun chapter to write, Ned and Arya's relationship has always been interesting and I think that if Lyanna had lived that Arya and her aunt might've been close. Plus I get to throw in some Dany! Which is always a plus since I love her so dearly. As always I hope you enjoyed, I won't be here all weekend so no updates, but new chapters since I'll have nothing better to do on my drive down to Los Angeles tomorrow.

So in terms of ages I'm putting it like this:

Robb- 19
Jon- 20
Sansa- 19
Gendry- 21
Arya- 18
Dany- 20
Bran- 16
Rickon- 14