Dawn had come and everyone was waiting for her—except Lord Karstark. She had received a letter not yet an hour ago of his intention to leave her council. She can't say she wasn't surprised to hear this, but she was surprised to find out that not all his men left with him. Over half of his men stayed behind; she knew they would pay for it later from the grumpy old lord, but now she was grateful that they wanted to stay and support her cause—her brother's cause.

The men the Captain chose were from every house in her company, and each had a leader to relay their masters' wishes. She knew each would want to take a turn sitting next to her by a fire and discuss matters. She really didn't want to hear grown men grovel. But still, she allowed Gendry to start a list so that each man would have his chance to speak with her during the journey. It was going to be a long one.

As they set off, Arya and her council found themselves in the middle of the army's ranks, safely flanked on all sides. She spent a few hours of the morning talking to Gendry before she trotted forward to have time to herself. As Gendry fell behind her, Brienne pulled up next to him.

"We haven't really had a chance to chat, have we?" Brienne said amiably.

"No, I suppose not," Gendry replied, slightly terrified. Not that he would admit it, but he was incredibly intimidated by Brienne of Tarth. He had made the new armor she was wearing as a favor to Arya, and he worked painstakingly hard to make sure it was perfect. He hadn't seen her truly angry, but he was certain he didn't want to be the cause of it.

"Had you ever seen one of the Baratheon brothers?" she asked.

"Uh…no, milady," he replied timidly.

"You look almost exactly like Renly Baratheon, King Robert's youngest brother. Who was your mother?"

He shrugged. "Just a barmaid."

"And you know nothing of your father," she supposed.

"Yes. Well, someone once said I was King Robert's bastard, but I wasn't too keen to believe him."

"You must be. No one can resemble King Renly so acutely without being a relation."

"I don't suppose it matters much, milady," he said, getting slightly annoyed with the topic. "If we can get Daenerys Targaryen on our side, it won't much matter who may have fathered me."

Brienne stared at him calculatingly. "She'll need a husband."

"And I'm sure she'll find a nice noble man who won't mind being the husband of a queen," Gendry replied sharply.

Brienne paused. "I do not wish to offend you, Gendry. I only wish to understand you."

"Then understand this: I'm an orphan bastard who's good at blacksmithing. Nothing else."

"Nothing at all? What of your character, then?" she asked.

"Ask Arry. She'll give you a good picture," he said with a slight chuckle.

Brienne smiled at him. "She does not say kind things about you."

"And I would do the same about her," he said lightly. "She told me you reprimanded her."

Brienne blanched. "I did no such thing! Does she really thing I was being so impertinent?"

"She liked it. She was glad someone stood up to her," he said. "I don't count," he added.

She smiled at the notion that Arya might like her after all. "So, what do you think will await us at Widow's Watch?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I think Arya will fight with this queen until it seems like we're all going to be killed for treason, but instead she'll be placed as Hand of the Queen once the Iron Throne is back in order."

"I couldn't agree more with your estimation," Brienne said.

They shared a smile and a friendship began to bloom.

They had been traveling for over a week. Arya was cranky from all the pandering and constant riding. She demanded to be in the back of the group today so she could feel less closed in. Begrudgingly, everyone agreed to allow her to travel solo. Brienne and Gendry were riding ahead of her, laughing at something one of them said, and it made her more angry. This wasn't meant to be fun! They were on a mission and they'd better rein in their little camaraderie they had suddenly formed.

She felt as if her two worlds were clashing with these two becoming friends. Gendry knew her as the stubborn kid who liked speaking before her brain could fully process what she was saying, and Brienne knew her as the reluctant queen who was bumbling at every turn but was still cocksure enough to pretend she was the smartest person there. They both represented two parts of her life and there they were, laughing. She didn't know why it was bothering her so much. Maybe because she hadn't laughed in years—a true, genuine laugh that started from her gut and reached her eyes. No. Not since her family was still safe in Winterfell.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she suddenly realized that she stopped controlling her horse. It had led her away from the group to graze on some grass peeking out of the snow. She chided herself for being so empty-headed and began to rein her horse in to return to the group when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

Was that a wolf? No, she must be imagining it. Wolves didn't stalk with so many people around. Surely she hadn't strayed that far away. She turned her head quickly around here, but didn't see anything but the trees. It must have just been her imagination. She was fairly certain she was going crazy…

Before she could move an inch, she felt something tackle her from the side. She flew off her horse and as she landed on the ground, she watched it run away wildly. Stupid horse. There was a heavy weight on her chest and a growling in her ear, causing her to look up at the creature standing on her. She locked eyes with it and recognized something…familiar.

"Nymeria?" she whispered softly, hope in her voice.

"Down, boy!" she heard a woman order sternly. The direwolf stood on Arya's small frame for a few seconds longer before reluctantly releasing his prey. "And what do we have here? A Lannister bitch, perhaps?" the woman spat.

"You must be blind," Arya managed to push out. She felt like all her ribs were broken from the weight of the wolf. Something about it was still nagging at her. "Lannister bitches are usually blonde. I've seen them."

The woman howled with laughter. "All right, then, A Stannis bitch?"

"I don't think Stannis Baratheon knows how to interact with a female, let alone make one his bitch," she replied as neutrally as possible. If this stupid woman didn't know who she was, she wasn't going to help her along.

"You've sure got a smart mouth," the woman said silkily. Her voice was starting to sound familiar…maybe. Arya was still too busy trying to catch her breath to look for.

"That's what my brother always used to say to me," she replied.

"And where's he?"

Arya paused, thinking of Jon. "Probably dead," she said flatly.

"You don't know?"

"Haven't seen him for a while. Been busy."

"Oh yeah? Doing what?"

"Getting an inbred shit off the Iron Throne."

She heard a thump near her left ear as the woman fell to the ground in fits of laughter. If Arya was crazy, this woman was the queen. Her head slowly turned to the left, but before she could focus on the woman pounding the ground in her fit, she heard the sound of several swords being removed from their scabbards.

"Don't move," a man said to the crazy woman.

Arya was immediately lifted off the ground and examined by one of the soldiers. "Are you all right, your grace? We just captured a few ruffians hiding in the woods when we noticed you were missing. Has she harmed you?"

"No," Arya said, yanking her arms away from the support she had been given. "I'm fine, I was only knocked off my horse."

"By a smaller one," the woman crowed.

"She has a direwolf somewhere," she said, recalling that face. Why did it seem so familiar?

"Men, search the woods for a direwolf. If it attacks; put it down," one of the soldiers ordered.

"NO!" the woman screamed. "Leave Shaggydog alone!"

Arya froze. She felt as if every part of her had stopped, including her heart. "What did you say?" she asked forcefully.

"Ma'am, please don't let them hurt Shaggydog," the woman cried.

"Who are you?" Arya croaked out.

"My name is Osha, I'm a caretaker for the direwolf and his master."

Arya's color drained. Rickon? "Lieutenant, you are to bring that wolf to me unharmed," she called. "He is probably with his master. Do not harm either of them."

"Yes, your grace."

"Thank you, ma'am," Osha said, looking up at Arya for the first time.

Their eyes locked for the first time and Arya knew the woman recognized her, even after all these years.

Arya returned to camp in a daze. Was it really Rickon? Wasn't he supposed to be dead? What did this mean about what she had done to Theon? If Rickon was still alive, maybe Bran was, too. That would mean Theon wasn't a murderer like she accused him to be. Her thoughts were interrupted by the Lieutenant. "Your grace, we have the robbers tied over here."

"Lieutenant, can you tell me why we captured these men?" she asked as he escorted her over.

"They attacked us, your grace. They saw us and attacked us without any provocation."

"So you believe them to be Lannister men?"

"We're unsure, your grace. They will not speak."

Arya nodded. What a day this was turning out to be.

She saw three men, two on their knees and one flat on his bottom with his legs out in front of him, and a girl. One of the men was almost the size of a giant. Another wore all black. Arya braced herself. If this man was a Crow who had abandoned his post, it was her duty as Queen in the North to punish him. And she wasn't sure if she was ready to do that again. They all had their heads bowed in defeat.

"Who are you?" she asked them.

The girl raised her head definitely. "We'll never give ourselves to a Lannister."

Arya snorted. "Do you see any Lannister bannermen here? Do you even know banners?"

"I don't suppose you would either. You look like a servant girl," the girl pushed.

The lieutenant hit her across the face. "Did I give you permission to harm them, Lieutenant?" Arya said icily.

"My apologies, your grace," he said, humbly, backing away.

"Your grace? Everyone can be royalty nowadays, can't they boys? Well, I'll be a queen, too. Hmm…how about in the North? I hear the one in charge of that is long dead."

"You heard wrong," Arya replied. "I'm the Queen in the North. And if you want to fight about it, you'll have to go through my army, first."

"What? This army? What is there, 50 men?"

"100, but this is only a small fraction of it," Arya replied. She couldn't explain it, but she rather liked this girl.

"Who would support a random woman in a position that belongs to a Stark?" the man in black said. That voice…

"You must have been on the road awhile not to know who keeps the North, now," Arya said, trying to get them to look at her. If they knew the North, maybe…she knew them.

"It doesn't matter much anymore," the man replied, tiredly.

"It would when you're man of the Knight's Watch so very far from his post," she teased.

He was silent. "I'm on a mission. Your grace," he added.

"A mission? Of what?"

"To get my brother to safety," he replied.

Arya looked from the giant and the young man sitting with his legs out. "I thought when you take the black, you renounce your family," she said. Why was his voice so familiar?

He finally looked up. "I'd never do—" He stopped when he noticed her face.

Her heart stopped and she stared into the face of the man she thought she'd never see again.

"Arya?" he asked.

Her voice wouldn't form the word she had so longed to utter. She turned to the Lieutenant. "Untie them immediately," Arya said with a voice thick with emotion.

The Lieutenant did as he was bid and the man in black stood up, staring at the young queen.

Her eyes filled with tears as she finally accepted who it really was. That this was really happening. "Jon!" she exclaimed before launching herself into his arms and his warm embrace.

They held each other for a long time, grateful that their family was finally reunited. Once out of her stupor, she hugged Bran, who was the boy—no, man!—sitting on the ground. "You've grown so much!" she said through tears.

She didn't care that her men were seeing her crying. Her brothers were alive. Her family was alive again. They were bearing witness to something that was thought would never happen—a family torn apart finally putting itself back together.

"Where's Rickon?" Jon asked her once they had all returned to semi-normal human beings.

"He's hiding in the woods with Shaggydog," Arya said. "We found Osha, but we don't know where they are."

"I'll go look for him," Jon announced. "I know where he'd go."

Arya had his arm locked in her grip. "Sorry," she muttered. "I'm still trying to convince myself this isn't a cruel dream."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Not a chance, little sister." As her heart swelled with the joy of hearing those words again, he extricated himself from her grasp and set off to look for their youngest brother.

"Your grace, we really must continue on before nightfall," the Lieutenant advised.

"Once we find my brother, Lieutenant, if your men haven't scared him away yet," she said.

"Yes, your grace."

That night, they made camp outside a small town. The men tried to urge her to stay in an inn, but she refused to take comfort when they were sleeping on the hard, cold ground. Anyway, she was certain the bed roll she had would be much cleaner and more comfortable than one of those old straw-filled mattresses in inns of that size.

Her three brothers had joined her in her tent for supper. They mostly talked about current events and what had been going on with the war. They weren't quite sure yet what to say to each other. Each of them had seen things the others wouldn't believe. But their favorite topic was of Sansa. Arya told them all about her forced marriage and their pending uncledom.

"Wow. A child with a Lannister," Jon mused.

"Not just any one, the Imp," Bran added.

"Tyrion is not like the rest of his inbred, insane family members," she argued. "He supports our cause, albeit secretly."

"How do you know?" Jon asked.

"I've met with him. We've planned strategic moves together," she argued.

"Arya, what if he was tricking you?"

"He isn't. He gave me good information that the Targaryen girl is heading for Westeros. We're on our way there to stake a claim in her army."

"Can we come?" Rickon asked tentatively.

Arya smiled at her youngest brother. He was 10 years old now, but he looked far older than his years. "Of course you can. You're not leaving my sight ever again." Rickon smiled at her, but it wasn't as warm as she would have hoped.

The opening to her tent was brushed aside and the two members of her council who had traveled with her entered.

"Oh!" Brienne said awkwardly. "We didn't mean to intrude…"

"Don't go! You've haven't been introduced yet," Arya said, urging them forward.

"Boys, this is Lady Brienne of Tarth. She is my pledged swordsman and knight." Brienne bowed. "And that's Gendry. He's an old…friend." Gendry smirked at her words. "These are my brothers, Lord Brandon Stark, Lord Rickon, and Jon Snow," she finished with emotion.

"What's your surname, Gendry?" Jon asked.

"Waters. I'm a bastard like you," he said easily. "I think she likes to keep them around. Make her feel special."

Arya blushed slightly. "No. You just wouldn't go away."

"And yet, here I am, milady."

"Sit down," she said icily.

With a teasing grin, Gendry sat down near Rickon while Brienne remained standing by Arya.

"Your grace, the Lieutenant thinks we will need to start our journey early tomorrow and stop late if we are to make it before the deadline," Brienne said.

"More hours of riding on a horse?" she whined.

"No one says you can't walk, Arry," Gendry said.

She glared at him. "That's an image: a saddlesore queen hobbling through the forest."

Gendry laughed. "Now I have to see it!"

Brienne allowed a small smile. "If we set up at the back again, your men will not see."

"I don't think they'll let me out of their sight again," she countered.

"Gendry and I will ride beside you. That will keep them at bay," Brienne offered.

Arya looked at Jon. "You ever ride a horse?"

Jon laughed. "Not in a long while, little sister. I'll walk with you."

"Me too," Bran said.

"Yeah, me too," Rickon agreed.

She smiled at her brothers. "We'll block the road with all those people abreast."

"I'm quite certain Hodor can block the road all on his own," Bran replied.

"That man is rather enormous, how did he get to be such a size?" Brienne asked.

"He's got giant in him," Rickon replied.

"Giants aren't real, kid," Gendry said.

The Stark men stared at Gendry. "They're real," Jon said seriously.

Gendry locked eyes with Jon and could tell the man wasn't bluffing.

"What do you mean, Jon?" Arya asked.

"Well, I suppose I should tell you why I'm here," he said.

They were all dead. Every last one of them. He stared at his fallen comrades. He had been on the other side of the Wall, how could this have happened? He had made a deal with Mance! Jon picked up a sword and threw it as far as he could. He would kill those Wildlings if it was the last thing he did.

"Nice shot," a voice behind him said.

He whirled around and came face to face with the man himself. "Why did you do this?" he demanded.

"I didn't. The giants grew restless. They didn't like what you did to their brother."

"You could have stopped them."

"No one orders a giant, Crow," he said.

They stood in silence.

"Are you going to kill me, too?" Jon finally asked.

"I don't want to kill you, boy," Mance replied. "I want to help you. You need to get out of here before the Southerners find out you're the last one standing."

"You killed an army that had been in place for generations," he argued.

"Everything has an end," Mance said calmly. "Your Night's Watch has ended, Jon Snow. I suggest you get out of here before someone else tries to end it for you."

Jon stared defiantly at Mance. "What will you do?"

"My men will keep this post. We'll have a line of defense against the White Walkers. I want you to tell your king the war isn't down there anymore. It's up here."

"He's not my king," he spat.

"Then go to the man with the biggest army," Mance retorted. "Now!" he yelled when Jon made no move to leave.

"I don't want to be like you. I'm not a traitor," Jon said.

"You're not a traitor, boy, you just don't have a post anymore. You're relieved of your duties. Now go, bring an army, or bed a woman. I don't care which comes first."

"There's someone at the gate!" one of Mance's men called.

Jon and Mance stared at each other. One of yours? their eyes questioned.

With no claim on this person, Mance ordered, "Bring them here. We will see who they are."

A few minutes later a giant man and a small girl were being escorted. The man was hauling a sled of goods—no—it was a person.

"Hodor?" Jon asked. "What are you doing here?"

The girl looked up. "You know Hodor?" She examined the man in black. "Are you Jon Snow?"

He looked startled by the acknowledgment of his name when a voice from the sled spoke. "Jon? Is that really you? Hodor, turn me around!"

"Hodor!" his giant friend said happily before turning the sled 180 degrees.

And Jon saw his broken brother looking at him in disbelief. "Bran! You're alive!"

"So are you!" he exclaimed, embracing his brother.

"Snow, these are your men?" Mance questioned, breaking up the reunion.

"Mance, this is my half-brother Bran and his friends. I haven't seen him since before I left for the Watch."

Mance nodded. "Then you'd better take your brother and get moving. I'm sure he wants to get as far away from the Wall as possible."

With that, Jon left the last home he thought he'd ever have with his newly recovered brother.

"Castle Black is gone?" Brienne asked in disbelief.

Jon nodded. "The Wildlings are living there now, but they're defending it from the White Walkers."

"What are White Walkers?" Gendry asked.

"It's a Northern ghost story," Arya started. "They're creatures long dead that rise up and walk the earth again. They kill and turn you into one of them. Jon, are they real?"

Jon nodded. "I've seen them with my own eyes."

"Arya, there are so many things out there we couldn't even begin to believe," Bran said.

Arya sat in silence and thought about what to do. "We'll need to tell the Khaleesi. If she takes the Iron Throne, she'll need to know what's knocking on her doors."

"What other strange things are out there?" Gendry wondered.

Jon shrugged. "I haven't seen them all, but I'm certain there's nothing as terrifying as White Walkers hiding on this earth."

After everyone made their ways to their bedrolls, Jon lingered behind to talk with his favorite sister.

"That Gendry fellow sure is familiar," he said as nonchalantly as possible.

Arya shrugged. "He was with me when I was smuggled out of King's Landing after father's…after Joffrey stole the throne. I had to pretend to be a boy. We were on our way to the wall."

"You never made it," he said in a slightly teasing tone.

"Lannisters and Brotherhood Without Banners," she said as a way of explaining.

"And you've been traveling with him ever since?" he asked.

"No, he left me. He joined the Brotherhood and left me to find my own way home. What a friend!"

Jon's eyes narrowed as he examined his sister. She was no longer the little girl he remembered her to be. She was becoming a young lady—well, woman—and she seemed rather attached to this fellow. Perhaps his sister wasn't impervious after all, he thought with amusement.

"What are you smiling at?" she demanded.

"Nothing. I just wonder why you let him back in, if he abandoned you, that is."

"We captured him and his men. They joined us after I beat him in a duel," she said smugly.

His eyebrows shot up. "The Queen in the North is fighting her own battles? What are we coming to?"

"I've fought in every battle I've seen as Queen," she said coldly. "I've done things no young girl should ever have to do."

Jon stared hard at his sister. Yes, she did look older, but she was also worn and tired. Her eyes did not shine with ignorant defiance anymore. No, they were of a seasoned warrior who has taken on many hardships. "What things?" he asked gently.

She looked at him with a hard stare before finally softening. "I beheaded a traitor of Winterfell," she replied.

They sat in silence for a moment while Jon processed this news. "You mean Theon Greyjoy, don't you?"

She gave him a small, curt nod. "He was also tried for murder. Now I see he was just guilty of pride, not steel, on that account."

Jon sighed. "You are a fierce ruler, little sister," he said.

"But I am just," she replied.