A/N: It's been a long time. Sorry, no excuse. Not even sure when the next chapter will be. I just got inspired and thought I should post. Enjoy.

Previously On: After trauma and grief on the King's Road, she's finally about to be reunited with her mother.

A Mother's Love

It's her. Same auburn hair. Same sophisticated features with a few more wrinkles around her blue eyes.

"Mother?" She breathes it, worried that if she calls out too loudly the dream will shatter.

"Arya!" Her mother calls back as she rushes to her, enveloping her daughter in her arms. Her mother's embrace is so tight; she can feel the warm, soft skin of her mother's neck against her cheek. Fat teardrops drip down Arya's face and collect in her mother's bosom, getting stuck there and adding a salty scent to her mother's familiar smell

Catelyn's own tears drop onto Arya's head, cooling the scalp where her hair is parted so tightly. Her own makeup must be a mess.

It's a dream she kept worrying.

I'll awake back in Harrenhall she thought.

I'll stay asleep then she decided.

But no, this wasn't a dream. Her mother was squeezing too tightly; she was having trouble breathing from where she was pressed against crushed velvet.

She pulled back, looking up into her mother's tear-stained face.

It was her. It was!

Hair that couldn't decide if it wanted to be brown or auburn. Fine nose, less masculine than her own. Soft, pale skin, so lovely.

Her own mother had put Arya's face between her hands, studying her just as intently.

"My daughter. My girl." She kept murmuring that, repeating similar sentiments over and over.

Arya had no better idea what to say. She was content to revel in this moment. She had felt safe once more when she'd seen Robb. But her mother made her feel younger, less weathered. If she pretended hard enough, she was a little girl back in Winterfell again, watching her mother get ready for a feast and hearing stories about Catelyn's own childhood in the Riverlands.

"My girl. How you've grown." She's smiling, and sniffling. "So beautiful." The words brought a new lump to Arya's throat. Hearing her mother think her beautiful, felt more surreal than any of it. She laughs without her own consent.

"Not as beautiful as you." Her mother did look beautiful, she always did. Even locked up in a room, she still held herself as the mother of a King. The new creases suited her. They both laugh, eyes shining anew.

"Seven Hells." They hear behind them. Arya turns to see her brother behind them, trying to look angry. He had tried to forbid her. "I told you to wait." He doesn't seem angry though as he smiles in on them.

"Hush now. My daughter's come home. You have no say in that." Catelyn scolds, returning her attention to her daughter.

He's not alone, a number of guards, a few bannermen, his wife, and of course Gendry, and the Hound were there as well, looking on still as stones. A good lady should always maintain an air of decorum. Arya couldn't seem to make herself care that they were watching.

"I was so afraid. I feared I would never see you again." Catelyn admits. Her eyes turn sadder, unrested. "I should have known to trust in you." She strokes her daughter's hair, some strands coming loose. "Your father tried to tell me how capable you were." This causes Arya's own breath to catch; the dress impossibly tight. She'd found her mother, but would never have this moment with her father. She could never truly be a child again.

"They killed him. I tried to stop it. I did everything I could. I'm so sorry." She starts, not sure what she's trying to say. But unable to stop.

"Of course you did. I'm sure you fought like a demon. It wasn't your fault." Catelyn kisses the top of her head. "He told me how glad he was to have you with him in that horrible place. One of his last letters."

Arya nods in answer. Not able to say anything to that. Feeling the relief of forgiveness she hadn't known she'd been seeking.

"We will make them pay. They will regret the wrongs they have done us." Catelyn promises so intently Arya can feel the steel of her mother's jaw. Perhaps that's where she got it from.

"We will kill them all for what they've done." Robb says from beside them, having included himself, letting go of his stern pretext. "With Arya we have an even better chance. She has valuable information. She was Tywin Lannister's cupbearer."

"What? Did he hurt you? What did he do?" Concerned mother, it's familiar and comforting.

"He didn't do anything." Some strange part of her finds the question funny. Tywin, in his way, had protected her. She had been past hurting long before that. "He thought I was a common girl. I got good at pretending." She would leave it at that. She wasn't sure she even could explain it. It hadn't made any sense as it was happening.

"So clever. And brave." High praise indeed. Arya wasn't sure she deserved it. "We are stronger together."

Arya smiled anew at that. Strange that she didn't feel stronger. She felt vulnerable, and it made her stomach churn.

Or perhaps it was the rich food she'd grown unaccustomed to, or all the wine.

"Now maybe my son will listen to me." Catelyn asserts, looking pointedly at Robb, the King of the North, with reproach.

"Mother…" He warns, more annoyed than angry.

"She's home, isn't she?" Catelyn counters. Arya was unsettled by factoring into their disagreement.

Robb sighs painfully, having had this same argument many times before.

"Yes, thank the Gods. But what you did was dangerous and poorly timed. You might have lost us this war."

"And what's the point of winning if there are none of us left?" Catelyn demands, pushing Robb further.

"Enough." Arya interjects. "Enough. With us bickering the bloody Lannisters can sleep easily." She remarks. "We are stronger because we're not crazy. Or brother lovers."

And with that, some of the tension is released. Robb snorts, and her mother smiles, tsking.

"She is right. I'm holding my daughter in my arms again. No fighting tonight." Arya smiles back, wishing Bran and Rickon could be there as well. "Tomorrow the war can resume."

"And talk of fault and strategy as well." Robb adds.

"Yes. Perhaps the Freys will lose some of their bitterness towards us when we can keep one of our promises." Catelyn says, reprimand in her tone.

"The Freys? What?" Arya asks. What did the Freys have to do with anything? They never left their bridge. They were like trolls that way.

They both get quieter at her question, and she can't quite catch their gazes as they look away.

"What?" She asks again, getting more anxious by the second.

It's Robb that answers.

"I promised to marry one of Lord Frey's daughters, to make her a Queen." Robb explains. Arya looks back and forth between he and Jeyne.

"I see." She says, though she doesn't. She can imagine the Freys being upset, insulted even. "I doubt you can smooth things over then."

"Yes, well, we also promised you would marry one of his sons. A little Walder who I'm told…" Her mother begins.

"What!?" She screeches, the sound grating to her own ears. Both mother and brother visibly flinch in response.

"Well, your cousin was unacceptable. And Lysa is not the sister I once knew. She refuses to send aid…"

"Of course I'm not marrying Robin!" She yells, affronted. "I'm not marrying some Frey! I'm not marrying anyone!" She screams it, watching as her mother's face goes from pity to irritation.

"Arya." She takes a breath, settling herself. "Now is not the time. We just got you back. We can discuss this later…" There it is. That tone she remembered so well. Her mother thought her a brat; she found her daughter's dissent distasteful.

"We can discuss it all you like. I'm not marrying anyone." She feels it now, the absolute conviction. After all she'd seen; all she'd done- marriage was out of the question. In some ways she hadn't changed.

"Arya." Her mother no longer hides her exasperation.

Robb cuts in.

"We needed to cross that bridge." His throat quivers. "I meant to save Father, to make the Lannister's pay for their offense." He's remembering. Jeyne looks on in concern or possibly guilt. "I would have promised anything, not knowing what it meant." He swallows. "But I fell in love, and I insulted them, deeply. That's my wrong, my recklessness." He looks over at Jeyne with tenderness. "I don't know if I'd make the same choice again. But it's done." He moistens his lips. "And now we're asking you to sacrifice in my stead. I'm sorry, but that's what we're asking."

It pained him to ask her this, she could see it. But not as much as it hurt to hear. She suddenly didn't feel as safe as she once had. The warm relief of having family close was ebbing already. Home had seemed so close, and now they were trying to tell her she'd never see it again. They were so happy to have her back, only so they could sell her. They wanted her to cease being a Stark, and become a troll.

"I understand." She says. Her mother breathes a visible sigh of relief. But too soon. "I understand, but… no. My answer is no."

"You don't have a choice!" Her mother screams, all patience gone. "We, women, we don't have a choice. You will do this. For your family." She considered the matter settled.

"For my family? Am I not part of this family?" Her voice is shaky. "Why do I get traded away? Why am I to be sacrificed?"

"Shame on you, Arya." Catelyn says. "You saw, first-hand what they did to your father. I thought you, of all of us, would want to make them pay."

"I do. I will… But not this way."

"This is how. Right here, right now. You can get us that army and keep the bridge open. You want to help this family, this is how. This is what we need. Please." Robb is pleading. His begging makes her lip shake, her gut churns at what she's doing.

"I will help. I have helped. I know the Lannisters, I know their weaknesses, I know their allies, and I know what drives them. And I can fight. I know you don't believe me, but I can fight. I can't have made it all this way just to..." At her mother's heavy stare she continues on. "Put me on the battlefield and I'll bring the lions low. Send me to my aunt and I will convince her to fight with us. Just find me something worthwhile. I am more than a broodmare."

"Still a spoiled child, I see." Her mother had officially dismissed her. Catelyn had decided the matter was solved. Once her headstrong daughter was put in her place, it would be settled. There was only one way to end this conversation for good. Not just this suitor, but the next, and the one after that.

"Not a child any longer, Mother." This was it; there was no going back. "Not a child. I've killed. "

Robb isn't surprised, she'd already told him as much. Her mother clutches the simple pearls around her neck.

"Oh, Arya. I'm so sorry…" Catelyn makes to cup her daughter's cheek.

But Arya backs away, having started and needing to finish.

"I'm not. I had to. I know I will have to again. That's the kind of person I am now. I kill, when I need to. And I'm not the girl you promised Frey. I'm not a little girl."

"Let's talk about this more tomorrow." Robb suggests, trying to ease the tension. But she keeps going, unable to stop now.

"I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm not even a maid." Her mother's gasp is loud enough to fill the room and then some. Her brother's disbelief palpable- stinging.

"That's not amusing, Arya." Her mother scolds, scowling, more little lines forming around her lips.

"Not a joke. You thought I made it all the way here unscathed? It took everything I had to get here. My maidenhead included." She all-but snarls.

The slap is so hard and fast she doesn't see it coming. Her cheek cracks as her head spins. Her mother had hit her.

The Hound growls and comes to stand beside her, hand at his sword. Robb's men come to her mother's aid in answer.

Arya holds up a hand, signaling the Hound to stand down. Robb's men follow suit.

"You hit me." Arya says, accusatory.

"After what you did?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "How could you do this to yourself? How could you do this to me?" The look, it's disgust now. Her mother was disappointed, repulsed. Of course. She should have expected that.

"To you?" She asks in shock. "Go on, try to sell me to the Freys, insult them further with a ruined bride." Arya spits, eyes burning. "I'll slit my new husband's throat while he sleeps." She threatens, breaths shallow with fury. "And if you hit me again, it will be the last time."

"Enough!" Robb orders. His powerful voice booms and they both fall silent, looking to him. "We are not arguing about this here, now." The King had spoken. The fight was ended, but nothing settled.

Suddenly she feels the eyes on here, everyone listening, watching.

"Come with me." Robb orders, taking her by the shoulders and leading her out the doors. He pushes past the onlookers, and she keeps her head down. She makes eye contact with no one. She pays no attention to her feet on the tile, doesn't feel her brother's hand on her shoulders.

Before she knows it, she's back at her room, staring at an open door. She's startled back to consciousness.

"I'll leave. I'll leave if you want me to." She's choked up. "I didn't mean to undermine you in front of the others, I just…"

"Arya." He interrupts. "Arya look at me." No Kingly rancor, his voice is calm. She dares to look up.

"I don't want you to leave."

"But your bannermen, and Mother…"

"I doubt your virginity will affect my bannermen's loyalty. And as for Mother, she's not King. I am. And you're my sister. I love you." He offers her a tiny smile, one of understanding, acceptance. Some of the wetness in her eyes spills onto her cheeks. He pulls her in, his embrace soothing her tattered nerves. "As long as I am King, you are always welcome beneath my roof. No matter what." She manages to smile, though it's a bit watery.

"I love you too." She answers back.

"Now get some rest. Tomorrow will be better." He kisses her on the forehead, says goodbye, and then heads back to the feast.

Alone in her room, warmly lit by candle light, she stares longingly at the bed. But the tightness of her bodice is squeezing her insides. She unlaces the material as quickly as possible, eager to be free. With the night over, the truth told, and her corset off, she can finally breathe.

A/N: Traumatic, I know. If you liked it, let me know. Thanks.