In her dream, Arya had a plan. Daenerys' forces had drawn most of Cersei's forces away from King's Landing. Long ago, she had navigated the tunnels under the castle as skillfully as the castle's cats. When she had fled years ago, she'd panicked and gotten lost out of fear, but this time she wouldn't panic.
She would wear the other girl's face, sneak through the tunnels and cut the Mountain's throat while he slept with no more remorse that the Mountain had felt as he tortured the prisoners of Harrenhall. Not only would she feel no remorse, but part of her regretted that she would not have time to truly avenge the hurt Gregor Clegane had caused.
After dispatching the Mountain, she would take out the queen. She would pretend to be a new maid, sneak into her chamber, and cut her throat. Again, part of her wished she could give Cersei what she truly deserved: to be burned alive by wildfire, as she had done to so many others.
She would do it for the good of Westeros. Winter was here, and the White Walkers were coming. There was no time for stupid battles between realms of men. Cersei would die. The Martells and Tyrells would be greatful. The Tullys would no longer be Lannister puppets. Tyrion could be Lord of the Lannister lands. Jon and the Dragon Queen would rule, and every man, woman and child in the kingdom would join to tell the god of death, "Not today." It wasn't about vengeance. It wasn't.
She reached a road that stretched north and south. Somehow, by the side of the road was the tree that she'd rested under just before crossing the gates into Winterfell. A raven swooped down and landed on a low branch. The raven looked strange, and it took a moment for Arya to spot the third eye on the bird's forehead. It opened its mouth, but instead of cawing said, "Arya." The voice was both familiar and new. "Arya, you're leaving Gendry?"
"I'm saving Gendry! I'm saving everyone. Once I complete my list, they'll all be safe."
"The faces of the Great Hall are for no one. When they are worn by someone, they are as good as poison." The words were those of Jaqen H'ghar, but the voice reminded Arya of her brother, Bran. "I thought you had decided to stop serving the god of death."
"I serve Winterfell. I serve The North. I serve Westeros!" Arya proclaimed.
"You serve your list. You serve vengeance. Leave it to the Dragon Queen. The Starks will have trouble enough keeping her from becoming like her father. They don't need to worry about you, too. Join together. Release your old enemies. Fight for life."
"I don't know how to let it go," Arya admitted. Then she felt a presence behind her. It was Nymeria, her pack spread behind her. The wolf came close to Arya, opened its jaws and swallowed her whole.