A/N - Another short chapter, but they should get longer from here. Please bear with me, this story is quite different to what I usually write and I really want to practice.

Chapter 2

Arya's footsteps barely made a sound as she worked her way through the damaged Red Keep to find Tyrion's cell. Today she would head back to Winterfell with the 20 Northern men who had remained behind to assist with the wounded. Several of them had offered to retrieve the prisoner, but Arya was more than capable of doing it herself as her men broke camp and readied the horses. The unsullied had been given ships and had left for the island of Naath the day before, while the rest of the houses of Westeros were making their own way home. Arya's eyes grew oddly warm as she recalled her farewell with Jon three days before. She doubted she would ever see him again, but hoped he could be happy with the wildlings even if she would miss him terribly. Sansa had gone that day as well following Tyrion's sentencing, leaving Arya to make sure Bran would be ok when they left.

The Red Keep got decidedly colder the further Arya went, until she arrived at a locked wooden door with a Northern soldier guarding it. Since the unsullied had left yesterday, a young Northerner called Alec had guarded Tyrion's prison. Sansa had wanted to replace the unsullied guards with her own immediately but Grey Worm had refused and it wasn't worth the argument.

"Come for the prisoner, m'lady?" he asked nodding his head at her approach

"It's time to go home" she agreed "No attempts to escape?"

The guard wrinkled his nose in disgust "No, m'lady. I wouldn't have liked to be kept in there. Between you and me, I don't think those unsullied were feeding him proper. He's barely made a sound all day, 'cept he was mumbling last night in his sleep"

Arya shrugged at the man's words "He's a prisoner; they don't get the best treatment"

"Aye m'lady, but he's not the worst of them. Not like those unsullied. That grey worm killed men who were on their knees. Ask me, he should have been in here"

Arya nodded. She had heard from Jon what Grey Worm had done to the Lannister soldiers, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had been there and heard the bells call for surrender, yet the dragon Queen had burnt the city anyway.

"Go and get ready to depart. I'll bring the imp" she commanded. The guard hesitated before handing her the key, taking one look at needle on her hip before leaving.

Arya stood in the draughty corridor recalling her goodbye to Bran earlier that day. She'd hugged her brother and made him promise to write, but he was so distant these days it was hard to communicate with him. The King had given her the keys for Tyrion's handcuffs "You can't unchain him until you're in the North. He can't be free until he's there"

"Sansa wants him in chains until we get to Winterfell" Arya had said with a heavy sigh "seems unfair to me. She told all my men so now I've no choice but to listen to her"

Her brother had frowned "I know. Sansa will need reminding"

"Reminding of what?"

"You'll know when you need to know"

"Were you really going to kill Tyrion before Sansa talked to you?"

"You'll have to ask Sansa"

"You're really frustrating to talk to" Arya said, mouth turning downwards into a frown

"Tyrion is a good man" said Bran, face drawing tight as he considered his words "you'll need to help him"

"Help him? You're the one who banished him"

"I did, because there is a small chance"

"A small chance of what?"

Arya's brow furrowed as she recalled the conversation. Bran would speak no more of it and only smiled when she asked. Why could no-one speak simply anymore? Bran and Sansa were as bad as each other. Her eyes moved to the wooden door before her. She'd been stood there for several minutes now and heard no signs of life inside. Surely it can't be that bad in there?

Arya turned the key and entered the room. The first thing that hit Arya was the total darkness of the room, followed quickly by the smell. The room stunk like a decaying animal. Arya said a silent thank you for her faceless man training as her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the prison, and she could work her way around the room.

"Tyrion?" she called, eyes landing on a small body lying on a heap of rags. Arya ground her teeth as she took in the room. Why had he been left like this? The bucket in the corner of the room for his business was near overflowing and clearly hadn't been emptied for days. Aside from that, the room was cold enough to see your breath, and Tyrion had been left only a pile of rags to sleep on.

"Lady Arya"

The dwarf was moving stiffly to his feet, and Arya crossed the distance until she was stood before him.

"We're leaving" she said, taking in the dirt and filth that covered him. He looked like death.

"As you wish" Tyrion said, voice low and scratchy

Arya led the way out of the cell and into the corridor, Tyrion shuffling behind her. He looked worse in the light, Arya thought. His dirty clothes were hanging from him and his eyes were bloodshot and red.

"Glad to be out of that cell?" she asked, slowing her steps for him to keep up

"I suppose" he said after a moment "though I had gotten used to it"

"I can't believe they left you in there like that" she said, trying hard to forget the squalor of the prison "You'll get plenty of fresh air now though - it's a long ride to Winterfell"

Tyrion said nothing but kept his head down as they headed out of the Red Keep, the sun greeting them and warming the cold from Arya. Piles of rock littered the courtyard from the battle and Arya sensed Tyrion was avoiding looking at the wreckage. The silence was rather unnerving and Bran's request to help Tyrion flitted through her mind.

"You'll have to keep the chains on until Winterfell" Arya said, grimacing as she said the words

"I understand"

Arya took a long breath "Seems stupid to me"

"I'm a prisoner" he said with a shrug

"Not when we reach Winterfell" she said, squinting in the sun as they approached the North men ready to depart "Sansa won't hurt you"

"Yes, my Lady"

Arya reached down and grasped the collar of Tyrion's dirty grey tunic turning him to look at her "Look, you're coming to Winterfell. You're not going to die"

Skeptical green eyes flickered to meet hers "and what does the Queen in the North want with me, if not my head?"

Arya pressed her lips together considering her answer "Sansa wouldn't tell me, but I assume you'll be asked to bend the knee"

Tyrion turned away from her, eyebrows furrowing as he mulled over her words. Arya had several ideas why Sansa wanted Tyrion at Winterfell, but for now that seemed the most likely. After all the places she'd been and things she'd seen, Arya was very good at reading people. It had been incredibly important to her training as a faceless man, and was now a skill she used at every opportunity. She'd watched Tyrion closely when he was sentenced, and she'd studied him now as they left the Red Keep. The vacant stare, the lack of response and general guilt that seemed to cling to him, left Arya in no doubt Tyrion was a broken man.

Whatever Sansa wanted from him, Arya hoped her sister understood this was not the same man she'd been forced to marry. Not the same man who'd celebrated their victory at the Long Night weeks before.

Arya moved to saddle her horse as one of her men led Tyrion over to another horse. He would have to ride seated with someone else for the journey to Winterfell, but he made no complaint as he was pulled onto the horse. Swinging onto her own horse, Arya led the group as they trotted from Kings Landing. It would be a long journey and she would have plenty of time to talk with Tyrion. For Sansa's sake, Arya hoped the real Tyrion was still there beneath the despondency and resignation that hung around him like a cloak.

"Hail Sansa Stark, the Queen in the North" announced Maester Wolkan placing a simple crown on her head, as the Northern houses echoed the cry.

A satisfied smirk crept across her face as the echoes died down and Lord after Lord came forward to pledge their allegiance. The journey from Kings Landing had been long but after two weeks of travel she had arrived at Winterfell. Representatives of the Northern houses had filled the Great Hall as Sansa explained what had happened in Kings Landing. No sooner had she proclaimed the North's independence and the first call went up naming her Queen in the North. Many more had followed, and the next day Sansa had been crowned. During Jon's brief reign as King in the North, Sansa had dealt with local issues while he focused on the threat beyond the wall. It wasn't Jon's fault, but the Northern houses had come to respect her as someone focused solely on the North rather than being consumed with Westeros as a whole. Gaining a peaceful independence had sealed the deal, and Sansa could now rule the North as she liked. She could build a better North

Her years in Kings Landing had been cruel, but she'd learnt a lot. She could play the game now and she was determined to take control. She was no longer a pawn, she was a Queen.