A/N: Written for AxG Week Day 4: Dream.
She doesn't talk to him about her nightmares.
He will never know what she sees when she closes her eyes at night, but whatever it is that bothers her does so frequently. He knows because she finds him when she is plagued with terrible dreams, opens his door and slips soundlessly into his room; the bed dips with her weight and he reaches for her, never saying anything, just pulling her close and stroking her hair as she tucks her chin into the crook of his neck (it fits perfectly, he thinks).
After a time she just sleeps in his room, and despite what others believe that is all she does. His presence seems to calm her; he usually manages to sleep through the night but sometimes he wakes to the trembling of her body, and he grips her shoulders and rubs soothing circles against her back until her eyelids flutter open.
She isn't the little girl he remembers anymore; she is fierce and cold, her eyes like chips of ice, her face every bit as severe as the long winter, but when her arms tighten around him and she mumbles incoherently into his back, when he wakes before her to find something like a smile at the corner of her lips as she rests, when she lets her guard down around him when they are alone, he knows she is still every bit the Arya Stark he has never stopped loving.
"What do you dream about?" he can't help asking one night when he shakes her awake from a particularly terrible nightmare; she was nearly thrashing in her sleep. Her face instantly goes blank and he wishes he hadn't asked; that's one of their unspoken rules: don't pry. He can tell her what he did in the years she was gone but she is never obligated to tell him about her past.
"I dream of Winterfell," she whispers.
He turns his head to stare. She continues, her gaze unfocused as if she is seeing not the flickering shadows of their room but the great castle before her.
"I have three dreams. I dream of retaking Winterfell."
She's not talking about her nightmares, then—but she never talks about anything, so he stays silent and lets her continue.
"I dream of seeing my siblings again."
She shifts and stops talking, closing her mouth and blinking up at the ceiling in the darkness. He waits three minutes, and when she does not speak again he clears his throat.
"What's the third dream?"
She leans forward and presses her cheek to his shoulder with a soft sigh. She does not say anything more, but her hand finds his, fingers curling against his palm, and he thinks he knows what her third dream is already.
A/N: If you have feedback of any sort (if anything doesn't make sense, if anyone's OOC, if you liked it/hated it/whatever), please let me know; I'll continue to post on ffnet if there is interest.