Ch 20

Arya

The snow covering the North was thickening as the days passed by. But today, they were fair on the roads to Winterfell. Arya's horse had just reached the top of a hill when the castle came into sight. A wave of satisfaction swept over her as she looked upon her home. It wasn't in flames, it wasn't taken by the Boltons, it was Winterfell. Finally, after years of running and hiding, she was home.

As her horse walked down the hill, Arya heard an unnatural screech from behind her. She turned her head and saw two dragons, flying overhead to Winterfell. At first, she thought it was just a hallucination from too much ale she drank on the road, but she never had that much to begin with. All she could do was watch in wonder as the two dragons soared overhead, their paths of flight intertwined almost like a dance in the air. The circled around Winterfell and reached the broken tower and perched there. 'What in seven hells?'

She was a bit shaken with what she witnessed. She heard the rumors about the dragons, but she didn't believe them. Dragons didn't come from the north, they come from the east, from Valyria or anywhere but the North. Her surprise and shock turned into excitement. She spurred her horse into a gallop on the beaten road of snow. If the rumors of dragons are true, then so are the ones about them being Jon's. She wanted to see him as soon as she could.

When she finally reached the castle, Arya approached the gates after leaving her horse at Wintertown since she had no need of it any longer. When she got to the opened doors, she was stopped by two guards, one fat and the other rather skinny. The fat one stepped in front of her blocking her way in. "Hey, where you goin'?"

"In there, I live here," she informed them.

The fat one seemed like he was too tired to deal with her, or he was too lazy. "Fuck off."

She nearly scoffed at him. "I'm Arya Stark, this is my home." She finally revealed. It felt good to introduce her real name again.

The two of them began to giggle like girls when she told them. "Arya Stark is dead," the skinny one said.

She forgot about that. Her status of life had been missing for too long. "Send for Maester Luwin, or Ser Rodrik, they'll tell you who I am."

Each of the guards looked confused. "There's no Rodrick here." the skinny one said.

"The Maester's named Wolkan," the fat one informed.

'They must've died then,' she thought. She forgot that so much had changed besides herself. It made her wonder how many others she knew before she left were dead. "Go ask Jon Snow then, the King-"

She was interrupted when a boy pushed past the guards and quickly gave her a tight hug. She didn't notice who it was, and his voice was unrecognizable. "I knew you were alive." Arya looked behind him and saw a familiar white direwolf with ruby red eyes. But this wasn't Jon, this boy was just as tall as her. The boy finally let go and revealed his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Welcome home Arya."

It was then, finally, that she remembered the bright smile of her baby brother. "Rickon?" Arya didn't recognize him at first. He'd grown so much and his hair was long and curly. He looked just like their father and the sword strapped to his side looked just like his, except he didn't have a beard. She returned the hug and closed her eyes, thinking that this might've been a dream. When she opened them, he was still there.

The guards behind them were dumbstruck, realizing that they made a very big mistake. "You're really Arya Stark?" The skinny one asked.

"Course she is you idiot!" The fat one said, "Lord Stark just called her Arya!" Arya let go of Rickon and looked at both of the guards, awaiting an apology. "Forgive us, milady, we didn't recognize you-"

"Of course we didn't recognize her, we ain't never seen her before!" The skinny one looked over at Arya, unamused by them. "We're sorry, milady. It won't happen again."

"Course it won't happen again, we know who she is now." They both looked at her again and shut up when they saw the grimace on her face.

Rickon and Arya walked past them, Ghost following close behind. "Keep up the good work, Bulkmire. You too Skullovitch." Rickon said to them.

Arya took another look at Ghost, he remained quiet as he always was, and wondered why he was here and not with Jon. "Strange to see Ghost following you. Where's Shaggydog, and Jon?"

Rickon stopped, trying to keep his face smiling. "Jon's not here. He went to Dragonstone to try and convince the Daenerys Targaryen to help us. Shaggydog… he's buried in the Godswood next to Lady."

The news of Shaggydog's death saddened Arya. Now only Ghost and Nymeria were the only direwolves of their litter still alive that she knew of. "I'm sorry. I'm still not sure how many people I knew before I left are still alive."

"Not many, unfortunately." Arya stopped walking with Rickon when she saw the passageway to the crypts. Through there was someone she had been wanting to see for six years. Rickon turned to her "Arya?"

She began to walk to the entrance and into the darkness, leaving Rickon behind. The torches along the walls gave enough light to see in front of her. She soon walked passed all of the statues of her ancestors and some who were very recently buried. She passed a statue that looked like Robb and next to him was Greywind. There was a tomb for him even though it was probably empty.

Arya heard that the Frey's let his body rot with their mother, his wife, Greywind, and the rest of his army. She felt satisfaction that she avenged all of their deaths. But she also felt a bit of anger as well. If Robb hadn't broken his vows then they might all still be alive. It was foolish to let his personal feelings take control, but she didn't have the right to judge. She let the same happen to her and lost her sight for it in Braavos. But she wouldn't make that kind of mistake again.

She moved on and found the one she was looking for. Her father's statue stood proud, holding an iron copy of Ice. She assumed it was to represent what he always said. 'The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.' When she looked at his face, she didn't recognize it. She remembered her father's face enough to know that the statue didn't look enough like him.

Arya soon heard footsteps approaching. Two people and one direwolf. She turned her head and saw her sister, followed by Rickon and Ghost. Sansa looked the same but older and had a much greater presence than before. She was a woman now, a proper Lady steeled by her trials in King's LAnding and the Boltons.

"Hello, Sansa," Arya said. Sansa smiled at her and quickly walked up to her and hugged her. They didn't leave on the best of terms, but Arya could tell that she wasn't the moron who wanted to play princess anymore. Sansa let go of her and she was able to get a better look at her. "You look like the Lady of Winterfell."

"I am the Lady of Winterfell."

Arya looked at Rickon thinking he was the Lord of Winterfell. "I told her and Jon that I'm not ready to be a lord, so Sansa's in charge until I'm old enough." He gave a satisfied look to her before she took another look at Sansa.

"It suits you, Lady Stark. So Jon's in Dragonstone?"

"He is. We all told him not to go, but he did it anyway." Sansa looked at her, recalling her love for Jon. "I hope he comes back soon. I remember how happy he was to see me. When he sees you, his heart will stop." She laughed with her sister and brother before they all looked at their father's tomb.

"It doesn't look like him," Arya said. "It should've been carved by someone who knew his face."

"Everyone who knew his face is dead," Sansa told her.

"We're not." They each exchanged smiles to each other, proud to hear those words. "They say you killed Joffrey. Did you?"

"I wish I had," Sansa admitted.

"Me too. I was angry when I heard someone else had done it. However long my list got, he was always first."

"You're list?" Rickon asked.

Arya looked at both Sansa and Rickon "of people I'm going to kill." Sansa looked at her weirdly before she laughed at that. Arya just smiled and didn't say anything.

"How'd you get back to Winterfell?" Sansa asked.

"It's a long story with some detours. I imagine both of your journeys were long too." She said to both Rickon and Sansa.

"Time it took is outweighed by the unpleasantness of it," said Sansa.

Rickon agreed. "But our stories aren't over yet."

"No, they're not." Arya grabbed hold of both her siblings and hugged them again, tightly.

"Arya," Sansa said. Arya released them and looked at her. "Bran's home too." Arya was overjoyed when she heard that, but Sansa and Rickon didn't share the same feeling. The joy faded and she was curious to know if something was wrong.

They all left the crypts and entered the Godswood. Arya saw Bran sitting in a chair with wheels by the weirwood tree. Next to him was an older man and a girl about Bran's age. They were all talking until they saw the Stark children approaching. They stopped and let Arya rush ahead to see Bran. The two people who were next to him took a few steps back, giving them more room. When she stood in front of him, he didn't seem to be excited. "You came home." Arya hugged him tightly, relieved to see him of all people still alive. She let him go and took a step back, looking at how he's changed. He cut his hair, she liked it. "I saw you at the crossroads," he told her.

"You saw me?" Arya was confused. Was Bran at the crossroads as too? If he was, how did he get ahead of her and how did she not see him?

"I see quite a lot now."

"Bran has…visions" Sansa informed.

Rickon looked over at Arya. "He's called the Three-Eyed Raven."

Arya looked over at Bran, confused. "I thought you might go to King's Landing."

"So did I" she confirmed, amazed that he knew her original plan.

"Why would you go back there?" Sansa asked.

"Cersei on her list of names," Bran said.

Arya was speechless. What happened to him? She felt the eyes of her sister fall on her as she turned her head to look at her. Sansa thought she was joking. "Who else is on your list?" Her older sister asked.

"Most of them are dead already," Arya told them. Only two names remained now. Cersei and the Mountain. She looked back to Bran as he just unsheathed an exotic looking dagger from its scabbard. She noticed the ripple pattern on the blade and recognized it from the pattern that was on Ice. "Where did you get this?"

"Littlefinger gave it to me," Bran said as he eyed the blade.

"Littlefinger, he's here?" The man who sided with the Lannisters? The man who assisted in overthrowing Robb? Arya turned to Sansa for an answer.

"He's declared for House Stark. Why would he give you a dagger?" She hastily changed the subject, but Arya was curious as well.

"He'd thought I'd want it," Bran told them.

"Why?" Sansa asked.

"Because it was meant to kill me." He spoke so casually. Bran was holding a dagger that almost killed him yet he didn't care. It was beginning to feel like he was a Faceless Man to Arya.

"The cutthroat, after your fall."

"Why would a cutthroat have a valyrian steel dagger?" Arya asked.

"Someone very wealthy wanted me dead," Bran told them.

"He's not a generous man," Sansa stated, "he wouldn't give you anything unless he thought he was getting something back."

Bran sheathed the blade and held the dagger up, inspecting the scabbard before he looked over to them. "It doesn't matter."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Sansa sounded irritated.

"I don't want it." Bran held the dagger out to Arya.

"Are you sure? It's valyrian steel."

"It's wasted on a cripple," Bran told her.

She took the dagger and looked at the craftsmanship before securing onto her belt. She turned around to the man and girl who were watching them the whole time. "Who're you?" She asked attentively.

The man stepped forward and slightly bowed his head to her. "Forgive me, I'm Lord Reed and this is my daughter, Meera."

"Lord Reed as in Howland Reed?" Arya knew the name from the story father would tell about the Tower of Joy. Howland was the man to survive with father in the fight with Ser Arthur Dayne and Gerold Hightower.

"The very same." He said, giving her a warm smile. Howland's presence felt very strange but also familiar to Arya. Not in the sort of familiarity of knowing the man from a previous encounter, but rather that he was a friend.

"What were the three of you talking about?" When she asked, the smile died and Lord Reed looked at Bran as if letting him be the one to answer.

"Jon's mother," Bran said. Arya turned back around when she heard him, wide-eyed as Sansa and Rickon, "and his father."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sansa asked.

"Jon's not the son of Eddard Stark, he never was. His real father is Rhaegar Targaryen. And his mother is our aunt, Lyanna. He was born in Dorne, in the Tower of Joy from the story father told us."

The three of them were speechless. "You're lying," Arya said, "Jon's our brother, he's always been our brother."

"He's telling the truth," Lord Howland said. They all turned to face him. "I was there the day Jon was born. Your father made me swear secrecy to never tell anyone, but now the time has come for such things to be revealed."

As much as Arya wanted it to be false, there was too much evidence that confirmed it. Too much being two dragons that were perched in the Broken Tower. The information was shivering to hear.

"But why?" Rickon asked. "Why would father lie and say Jon was his son?"

"Robert Baratheon," Sansa said. "He hated the Targaryens, and he would've killed Jon if he knew he was Rhaegar's bastard."

"Indeed, Lady Sansa," Lord Howland said. "Your aunt Lyanna never died of a fever, she died of childbirth in the Tower of Joy in Dorne."

"So that makes him a Sand instead of Snow," Sansa said.

"No, it doesn't," Arya said.

"Dornish bastards are named-"

"But he's not a Dornish, he's a Northerner. He's a Snow" Arya looked at all of them with fire in her eyes. She wasn't angry with them, but this was one argument she wouldn't dare to lose.

"In any case," Bran said, "he needs to know. If Daenerys Targaryen should die in the wars to come, then he'll be the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

There was a silence between all of them. Jon could be King of the Seven Kingdoms. "This stays between us," Arya said. Everyone looked at her, wondering why. "The other lords don't need to know they're following a Targaryen." They seemed to understand her point.

"My lords and ladies," Lord Howland said "I'm afraid I must bid you all farewell. I am needed back at Greywater Watch and I have already overstayed my time here." He looked over to Bran, "I'll return soon, but until then, good luck to you all." He bowed his head and left, his daughter following him. She looked back at Bran before continuing on.

There was a silence between the four Stark children. "He's still our brother," Rickon said, "and he's still a Stark."

Arya smiled at him, happy to hear that. "No argument there."

They were all interrupted when mild screeches were made by the two dragons flying down to them.

Rickon nearly rushed over with Ghost to where they landed and removed one of his gloves. He stretched forth his naked hand to the white dragon and caressed it's head lightly.

Arya's heart began to pound in her chest. To see creatures from a storybook right in front of her was incredible. She never thought in a hundred years she would ever get to see a dragon, and now there were two not ten feet away from her.

The blue dragon crawled slowly over to Arya, Sansa, and Bran.

"They still make me a bit nervous from time to time," Sansa admitted. "But they are gentle creatures. They seem to know where's Jon's family."

"They won't harm us," Bran told them.

Arya decided to follow Rickon's lead and removed a glove from her left hand. She reached her hand out as the blue dragon got closer and suddenly felt a great warmth when her fingers brushed against the blue scales. Her hand was then completely on the dragon's head, stroking it softly with her thumb.

"Jon calls her Lyarras," Sansa said with a smile. "The other one is called Ygris."

Arya let a small laugh of excitement escape her as she began to scratch underneath Lyarras's chin. "They're so beautiful. And So big." I heard about them, but the rumors said they were the size of hounds."

Lyarras left the feel of Arya's touch and return to her sister dragon and both of them took flight. Their wings blew a gust of snow directly at the Stark children.

Arya shivered off some of what got her as the snow continued to fall, now feeling the cold. "Let's get inside before I freeze my tits off." Arya grabbed the handles on the back of Bran's chair and pushed him forward through the snow, Sansa, Rickon, and Ghost following closely.

When they entered the courtyard, Arya noticed many eyes gazing at them, and the happiness behind those eyes. It made her feel warm. The Starks of Winterfell were home.