Fanfictio only. I own no part of Game of Thrones

Obligations

When Clegane reported back to Jon regarding the Manderlys, Arya stayed outside with the horses. Stranger was nearly as notorious as his master, and none of the stable boys would tend him. Several of them had already suffered vicious bites or kicks from the enormous stallion. He didn't like Arya, precisely, but he tolerated her.

"You bringing that black beast to be shod, my Lady?"

Arya turned to find Gendry passing by, laden with an armful of plate mail. She shook her head and continued untangling brambles from the horse's mane. "Just waiting for Clegane while he reports to his Grace."

Gendry leaned to the side to glimpse Clegane bent over a table looking at something with Jon. "He's a hard man, that one. I was surprised to hear he rode with you. He's your sworn shield?"

"Not exactly. He's my friend."

Within the tent, Clegane cocked his head and braced his hand on Jon's table.

Gendry shook his head. "A man like Clegane, I'm not sure he has friends, my Lady."

Arya drew herself up and narrowed her eyes at Gendry. "You're right. He's more like family."

"You ready?"

Clegane glared sourly down at Gendry, and he nodded his acknowledgement. Turning back to Arya, Gendry murmured, "Good day, my Lady."

Clegane watched the young smith trudge away into the snow. "You let him call you my Lady."

Arya shrugged. "He was my friend a long time ago. I wanted him to go with me to the North, but he chose to stay with the Brotherhood. He can't imagine a world where lowborn and highborn don't matter, and I tire of trying to explain it." She glanced up at Clegane. "Sometimes you have to choose who you will make your family with."

"Sometimes it's not that easy."

"Sometimes it is."

Clegane glowered down at her. When the wind tugged a lock of her hair loose, he caught it and tucked it behind her ear. "Not when you're the sister of the king. He wants you to help him lead, and he's expecting you for the war council this evening."

"He told you that?"

Clegane took his horse by the bridle and started leading them away from Jon's tent. "Aye. There's a long list of things he wants you to do, but I told him there's not a chance in the seven hells he'd get the rest from you."

"What else does he want?"

Clegane kicked a chunk of broken ice from their path. "More or less he wants you to be who you were born to be. He wants Lady Arya to ride with him and share his tent so he can be sure you are safe. He wants your council, the way he had Sansa's."

"I'm not Sansa. I'm an assassin, not a politician or a soldier. I don't know anything about these men or how to win a battle."

"Maybe not, but I do. I've years at court watching them bitch and posture and intrigue and years of soldiering. I could teach you."

Exasperated, Arya huffed, "Why? What's the point?"

Clegane caught Craven's bridle and halted them. "Jon Snow is King of the North because he has Stark blood and united the Wildings, North, and Castle Black. He's a good man and a strong warrior, but even kings can fall in battle. If he falls, you're the only person who could unite the North. After killing the Thenns, even the Wildlings might follow you. Whether you want it or not, they will turn to you to lead them if Snow falls."

"Seven bloody fucking hells! Just like that, you want me to be Sansa? I'm not—"

"I don't want you to be Sansa." Arya glared at him, and he glared right back. "I've always told you the truth of the world, especially when you didn't want to hear it, and I'm telling it to you now. I don't give a shit whether you're high or lowborn, but I won't stand by and let the dead swarm over the rest of Westros and swallow it whole. Whether you're his Lady Arya or my wolf bitch, the truth of your blood is that these men will look to you to lead them if their king is killed. Would you rather Lord Umber or Lord Glover or the drunken fucking Manderlys take his place?"

Arya grimaced. "Gods, no, but—"

"Aye! Either would I. That's why I told him I'd see to it that you would be there."

Arya glared at her boots and fumed. She knew Clegane well enough to know that if he'd given his word that she'd be at the council, he'd make sure she was, even if he had to truss her and carry her in over her shoulder.

"You'll stand with me?"

"Aye. I always stand with you." Clegane glanced around wearily before hooking one of her fingers with his own. He tugged her finger to draw her closer. "His Grace doesn't understand why you've become so distant, and I can't explain it to him. You love him; I know you do." Arya's anger was draining away, and she looked up at Clegane. He cupped her cheek in his hand, and she was drawn still closer to him. "I think he's afraid, and he needs your support. He knows you're not the girl you once were, but you're still his favorite sister, and he wants you there."

Arya nodded her assent, but asked, "When did the King of the North become your king?"

Clegane released her and gave Stranger's reins a jerk. "When I realized he was the only man standing between death and the rest of Westeros," he glanced over his shoulder at her, "but threw my lot in with House Stark long before then."