It's just a dream. Just a dream. A dream. She punched her pillow in frustration. She had the same dream; killing Freys, the mysterious maester, Gendry's death, blood red tears…

She threw her legs over the side of the bed and yanked a tunic and trousers on again. It felt like she just got in bed a few minutes ago. The breeze through her window stung the fresh tears on her face. Why do I have to keep having this dream? I didn't have it before in the maester's chambers, so why now?

She flew down the stairs and debated whether she should go see Gendry again. The maester would force her back to her room and she would surely hear it from her uncle. Knowing him, he would probably confine her to her room and forbid her from going anywhere at all. She headed toward the stables hoping a ride until morning would keep her mind from that dream.

The gates were not heavily guarded and haven't needed to be since Riverrun's victory over the Twins. She wasn't here when it happened, but she heard of her uncle's victory all across the countryside, even in Saltpans when she returned to Westeros. Her return wasn't the same as when she arrived in Braavos on Titan's Daughter. Though, the return gave her the confidence to redeem her honor and claim Arya Stark's name again. She refused to be a mouse any longer. She was going to return as Arya Stark; not Arry, Weasel, Salty, Cat of the Canals or even Arya Horseface. She was tired of hiding, so when she heard of her Uncle Brynden crushing the Freys and beheading Walder Frey, she knew she needed to be with him.

But, of course she came across Gendry before she made it to Riverrun. It was a rough reunion, as expected, but she was happy to discover he still had a head on his shoulders. Gendry said the Brotherhood without Banners still existed, but they wandered around more than they did before. Gendry was all too eager to come with her when she mentioned where she was going. She reminded him of his previous arguments from five years ago when he first told her how the Brotherhood could give him a "family." Idiot. She knew he revealed their empty camaraderie and false hope, and that was enough for her.

It was like there were only a few days since they were last united. Gendry was still same old, stubborn, bull-headed Gendry. She was used to being alone but his company was a nice change. She didn't like to be a lone wolf but her curse of abandonment left her no choice.

She rode along the Red Fork River inviting the watery spray to sprinkle her skin. It wasn't warm and salty like Braavos, but it made a nostalgic smile emerge. She needed this freedom from the castle. A wolf isn't meant to be locked up in a tower. Her horse seemed to be enjoying their ride as well, possibly taking in her positive energy. She let her mind wander and of course, the ominous maester from her dream kept surfacing. She slowed the horse to a trot and thought back to the emerald mist that was left as his sneering face dissipated. Why green? The dagger in her dream was green and silver but she wasn't even sure if the real dagger was the same. The Freys' colors were blue and grey so that didn't connect. She rubbed her face trying to milk the meaning of her dream out of her confused mind.

Another part of her dream sprang to the surface, unwanted. Why did she cry blood? The Kindly Man always told her that dreams were important and analyzing them would prove useful for the dreamer. Perhaps the blood represented Gendry's death. But he wasn't dead, it was only a dream. That part of her dream was too deep for her to understand. But the dagger could mean something.

The sun peeked over the hills of the Riverlands at her, spilling shy orange rays on the damp trees. She must have been out riding for the majority of the night. Her body still felt stiff with weariness, but better overall. It took her a long time to ride back to the triangular castle. She patted her horse and headed up to the maester's chambers, the image of the dagger still lingering in her thoughts.

"My lady, good to see you." Maester Vyman bowed.

"Hello, maester. This may be strange of me to ask, but can I see the dagger that poisoned me?" She didn't feel like having small talk right now. She wanted to interpret her dream so it could cease its torment.

He studied her momentarily and walked to his desk waving her over. He took a large jar from one of his shelves and unscrewed the lid painfully slow. The jar was cloudy so she wasn't even sure what to expect. He tipped the jar and the dagger clanged onto his desk with a ghostly powder coating the blade.

"Why is it all powdery?" The chalky substance covered the handle enough that she couldn't see if it was silver.

"This is a neutralizing remedy for the poison that is on the blade. Wolf's bane cannot be wiped or washed clean. It is too dangerous to handle in such a way." He paused and studied the weapon, "I think it should be fine to touch if you wish to examine it. I believe the powder has done its work."

She reached for it eagerly, the powder clinging to her fingers as she lifted it. The weight of the metal was strange in her hand. Suddenly, a tinge of fear slashed at her mind and she wanted to drop it. This is what almost killed her and she's holding it as if it could do no more harm. Fear cuts deeper than swords.She swept her thumb across the hilt revealing a shimmer of silver playing across the design in the metal. She rubbed the white dust from the decorative piece that jutted out at the bottom of the hilt. A vibrant green burst brightly from beneath the grimey cloak. Her breath caught in her throat. It's the same.

Without looking up and giving away her shocked expression, she asked, "What house has the colors green and silver?" She recalled her teachings in Winterfell and the only house she could associate the colors with was House Botley. But they were from the Iron Islands of which she had absolutely no connection with.

The maester cleared his throat, "Well, my lady, there's House Botley with silver fish on a pale green field. They are lords of Lordsport on Pyke and no one of concern." He trailed off quietly. She could feel his curious, grey eyes on her. She had to figure this out but she didn't want the maester's help. She would talk to her uncle about it soon.

She lifted her eyes to his, setting the dagger back on his desk, "I was just curious. Thank you for your help." To change the subject, she turned toward an unmoved Gendry, "Has there been any change?"

They walked to the bed and looked on at his ashen figure with concern. "His fever and other symptoms are the same. He will probably be waking up soon." His cheekbones seemed a bit more sunken in and it was darker around his eyes. She prayed that didn't mean he was slowly turning into a bony corpse.

The maester cleared his throat as if to gain her attention, "My lady, do you think you could stay with him for a while? I have run low on my supplies and could use much of it to his benefit." He paused and quickly added, "I'm sorry, it was improper of me to ask such-"

"I'll stay. You've been by his side for almost three days. I would have gone insane by now." She felt she owed the old man something for attempting to heal Gendry. A wave of guilt overtook her as she thought back at how suspicious she was of him.

Maester Vyman nodded, "Thank you, my lady. I won't be gone for long. I just need to visit my supplier and a few regular patients. I expect to return this evening." He turned and snatched a leather satchel from his chair, "If he wakes, there is dream wine over here. Give him water before you send him back to sleep." He saw her doubtful look, "Do not worry, my lady. I believe he won't give you much trouble and I am not far away." He gave her a reassuring smile and left.

She let out a great puff of air. Why did I agree to this? I don't know how to take care of sick people.For once she hoped for Gendry not to wake. "It's just you and me." She whispered down to him. She noticed a bowl of water sitting on a stool beside the cot. She looked back at Gendry's sweaty skin. "Well, I guess if I'm going to take care of you, I'll do it right." She shook her head at her silly commentary. I'm going crazy after just a few minutes.

She dipped her fingers into the cool water and pulled the cloth out, wringing it with a loud splash. Her hand naturally started at his face, dabbing lightly. She had never done this before but she had watched her mother and maesters do it. She bent to push his hair back, her fingers combing through it. It was soft despite the thickness that tangled around her knuckles. She wiped the cloth across his forehead and down the side of his face to his neck. She stopped suddenly, staring at his face. His nose was long and straight, matching his tall cheekbones. He was definitely the kind of man her sister, Sansa, would swoon over. His jaw was sharp and angular beneath the dark stubble that dusted his sun-tanned skin. Sansa would surely gush over his eyes as well. Arya could picture them the way they always were; blue, vibrant, intense. When he laughed, they would grow so bright, it was hard for her to say if they were blue anymore. She frowned at the thought. If he died, she wouldn't be able to guess what color his eyes really turned when he laughed. Her thumb was resting on his neck and she could feel a slight nudge from his pulse. It was weak but it was there.

"You have to wake up Gendry. Please." She whispered, struggling to keep her emotions at bay. His lips came together and then apart, back to their original position with a long exhale. She leaned closer, staring at his lips, hoping for a sign of consciousness. Then her stomach gave a lurch and she realized where her hands were and the proximity of their bodies. She wrenched her hands free and jumped back as if he were a blazing fire. If he had woken up, it would've looked like she was going to kiss him. Gods, what's wrong with me? Even if he did wake up, he wouldn't want her to kiss him. He wouldn't want a horse-faced girl like her. Besides, boys are stupid. And girls are stupid. She was a wolf. She rolled her eyes and forced the absurdity away. She finished dabbing cold water on his skin, trying her best to smother the fever heating the cloth.

After she finished, she sat in her usual chair and looked at him nervously. What if he woke up coughing? And there was blood again… Fear cuts deeper than swords.She wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. Again, there was that overwhelming instinct of wanting to touch him. It must be some kind of protective instinct. She took his hand anyway, curling her fingers over his. They felt like the rest of his skin, clammy sweat sticking to her. His hand felt stiff and gaunt as she shifted her fingers. Please don't die.

She gazed at his face, willing him to open his eyes. She felt like she had to do something more. Maester Vyman didn't just sit in here staring at him all the time. She knew he made medicines and researched things but that wasn't something she was going to do. She squeezed her eyes closed, thinking hard about what she could do. And then she remembered when she told him the story about the ice dragon. He seemed interested and it made him relax.

She sat up straight and thought deeply about the stories Old Nan would tell. "How about… Symeon Star Eyes!" She smiled thinking about how badly she wanted to be a fighter like him when she was younger. Her smile grew when another thought came up, "I bet you didn't know that I was blind for a little bit. The Kindly man, the one that trained me in Braavos, gave me milk one night and then when I woke up, I was blind!" She didn't feel silly talking out loud anymore. She felt like he was alert and listening. For all she knew, he was.

She talked for what felt like hours about Braavos and when she was blind. Her story went in the direction of how she got her sight back and that it was redeemed when she was able to dodge the Kindly man's strike. She was hesitant to tell him about how she could see the old man attempting to hit her through the eyes of a cat, but she did anyway. She half-heartedly hoped he was able to hear her. As she talked about Braavos, she could feel the happiness swelling up inside her chest. Braavos was like a second home to her, next to Winterfell. Her heart still longed to be in Winterfell again but the traitor, Bolton, who conspired with the Lannisters to kill Robb and her mother, held it. She realized her mouth was still moving, spewing more about her time at the House of Black and White.

She mentioned the waif girl and how irritating she was when she was teaching her Braavosi, "I think you would like her. She annoyed me as much as you do." She laughed and nudged his leg with their joined hands. His hand closed tighter around hers, startling her. "Gendry? Are you awake?" she gasped. His eyes remained closed and there was no more movement, other than his slowly rising chest. She studied his face, chewing her lip. There was nothing.

She slouched against the back of the chair. Wake up already. A yawn caught her off guard but she pushed it away. She can't fall asleep now. She's supposed to be taking care of Gendry. She leaned forward and propped her head on her other palm. What if he did wake up? What would he say first? The maester said he wouldn't be competent enough to know what was happening. She looked down at their hands. What would he say if he knew she was the one holding his hand? He was the one who kept grabbing her hands first. She was the one who should be asking the questions: Why did he save her life if he was willing to leave her so easily for the Brotherhood without Banners? Her eyes drooped heavily. Why was he so calm for her after all those men were restraining him? Their hands were fading away. Why was he concerned about her health when he should have been worrying about himself? Her head helplessly slid from her hand. Why did he act like he cared? Darkness engulfed her wandering thoughts.

She felt warmth before she opened her eyes. It was like her skin was responding to her consciousness before anything else. Heat encompassed her hands and face, like a hot summer breeze. She was comfortable and didn't want it to end. She didn't want to open her eyes and remember her worries. But then Gendry's face floated into view and it unpleasantly shook her awake.

She stared at the wool blanket, feeling the skin of Gendry's arm on her cheek. She sat up quickly, regretting the decision as her neck contracted into a cramp. She rubbed her muscles and realized the light of day fading behind the draped window. The maester hadn't returned yet and Gendry was still asleep. She felt ashamed for falling asleep when she was supposed to be taking care of him. She reached forward to place her palm on his forehead and discovered that his fever wasn't as scorching as before. His skin wasn't shiny and his hands weren't clammy, but ice cold. She smiled and pulled the blanket up around his shoulders, tucking it around him. She felt a little disappointed that she couldn't hold his hand but that gave her a reason to get up and stretch. She walked to the maester's desk and remembered the dagger.

She picked it up again, this time with more hesitation, fingering the powder that still coated the blade. She held the dagger by the handle and raised the pommel to her eyes. The green stone reflected the candlelight creating a mirror-like appearance. She tilted it slightly and suddenly she felt like she was gazing into an emerald sea. She could see through the gem and there were white lines bunched together throughout the flesh of the jewel. She squinted and the lines connected as she rotated the dagger; a bird. She moved the dagger from her face and screwed her face up. A bird? The door creaked open and she twirled around to the maester walking toward her.

"How did it go, my lady?" He smiled at her as he emptied his satchel on to his desk. A variety of small cloth bags and glass bottles clanged on to the wood. She immediately set the dagger back where it was before.

"He didn't wake up, but I think his fever is getting better."

Maester Vyman looked startled, "Really?" He walked to Gendry's bed and placed his hand on his head as she had done. "By the gods, you're right!" He seemed much happier now than he was earlier, before he left. Getting out of this chamber must have done him some good. "He should be waking up any time now. My lady, I have something for you since you did me a great favor by staying here." He shuffled to his desk, rummaged around in the pile of articles that were strewn everywhere, and produced a small object. He held his hand out and in the middle of his palm was a silver wolf pin. She picked it up and ran her thumb across the delicate details of the fur.

It was quite lovely and very well made. "Thank you maester, but you didn't have to do that." She looked up from the trinket and saw his beaming smile.

"No problem, my lady. I saw it and thought you would enjoy the sight of a wolf whenever you wished. I know it isn't a real wolf but I heard you had a pet direwolf of your own when you were younger."

"Nymeria. Her name was Nymeria. Thank you, Maester Vyman." She felt that his gesture was more than enough to convince her he was one of the good maesters. She hadn't received a gift like this in a long time so it made her feel happy. Her stomach's loud grumble interrupted her thoughts so she pinned it on her tunic, right above her left breast.

"Maester, I'm going to head down for something to eat now. If he wakes up, please let me know." She nodded toward Gendry and looked back at him. He smiled widely and shooed her out the door. She took one last glimpse of Gendry and smiled. You aren't going to die. Not today.