Arya

I

The earth crunched beneath her feet with each light bound. The moonlight was the only guide she had through the dense forest. The doe was fast, though if she pushed herself, she knew she was faster. Her heart roared in her ears as they perked toward the stars. The hunt was in her, and she felt each bound grow fiercer, faster. Soon the taste of the crisp night's air was filled with flesh, and then blood. The doe twitched beneath her and the sweet, sweet rush of the hunt rolled through her.

So like the shivers she got when a cool breeze rolled by, or when her pack had to go in the water. She was of the night, and with the moon on her as she enjoyed her kill, she knew this now more than ever. A scent on the wind caught her nose. It was men. Men with their long claws and the hot wind they carried that blinded her and her pack.

She heard her brothers and sisters begin to howl. Before she knew it, her legs were in a mad dash beneath her, bounding along the forest floor to the call of her pack. A cold had settled in her body, though she didn't know when. It was familiar, as though it had been there long. The night wasn't cold, there was a breeze but it was only cool.

The cold moved inside of her, along her belly and moving up until it reached her throat. It grew hard to breathe and she had to stop running. Standing in the stream, Arya looked at her reflection. Her white-grey fur was matted with dirt and leaves, and her eyes shone blue. Her breathing grew worse and she felt as though her throat was getting tighter. Soon, she couldn't breathe at all, until she sat up in her bed.

Arya clutched at her throat desperately, feeling a burn there, though a burn as though she held her hand on the Wall itself. A cold so intense it burned. Her dagger and needle rested aside the bed and were the first things she reached for. Though within moments, she realized what had happened. Her wolf dreams had not happened in quite a long while, but the cold dreams, as she had come to call them, had been all too familiar since the night she had killed the Night King. Exactly where he had grabbed her by the throat, an intense cold rested there, as though the flesh remembered.

In a way it did. She had looked only a few times, in a stream, in a looking glass at the inn she was at, and she could see the mark. Flush across her throat, a handprint had begun to set in, very faint at first, but in the weeks since, it had begun to darken. She was back at the Inn at the Crossroads. Her path had taken her here so many times, she thought, why not again?

Though in truth, she had only gone where she knew Hot Pie was. She wanted to see someone familiar, but not so familiar that they would cause her issues. That was all she had gotten when she went home. Bran wasn't Bran, Rickon was gone, Sansa was just Cersei with Tully hair, and Jon was not Jon anymore, he was the Dragon Queen's lover, he was Aegon Targaryen. At least Hot Pie was still Hot Pie. And Gendry is still Gendry, she thought to herself, but who knew where he was. He had gone south when the rest of them had, to Storm's End. He was likely there now but south wasn't where she was headed to.

She tried best as she could to sleep more that night. Sleep did come, though only after hours of laying with her eyes closed. She got herself together in the morning. Changing into her proper clothes and putting her hair up. She made her way to the hall where she knew Hot Pie would be and soon enough he had wished her a good morning and sat her at a table before running off to the kitchens.

"Careful with that one, 'Arry." Several dishes were set out before her by him soon, all steaming as the smell wafted through the entire inn. "They're hot and fresh."

"Thank you," She smiled at him, appreciating that he might be the only person she knew who had never hurt someone. "You deserve to be somewhere better than this, you know that?"

"What do ya mean?" His eyebrows furrowed and she only smiled wider.

"You could come to Winterfell and work in the kitchens," She put her hand on his. "You would live in the castle, dine in the halls with my brother and sister, and would be able to live your life safely and peacefully as you want."

"My home is 'ere, 'Arry." He looked around, as if he were nervous. "Anyway, the lady here says I've gotta work to pay off how much I eat. A lot of money apparently."

"Well fine then, don't come live in a castle." She continued to eat, smirking at her jape.

It wasn't long before Arya found herself packed up and once more preparing to get on her horse and leave. Hot Pie had disappeared halfway through her meal, though she didn't worry about leaving without seeing him.

"Wait!" Right on time, Arya thought to herself. "Wait up, 'Arry!"

Hot Pie ran up to her house with a little sack on his back. He was panting as though he hadn't run since they were running from Harrenhal.

"Changed your mind, did you?" She enjoyed messing with him. "Well let's go, we don't have forever."

He got in the saddle with a struggle, obviously he hadn't ridden a horse in years. Imagining Hot Pie in Winterfell gave her hope. She remembered Mikken, Jory and Rodrik. The kennel master and so many others who she had grown up with at Winterfell. They would bring in Brienne and now Hot Pie and eventually, they would have another proper household for the castle. For the first time in her life, Arya thought of herself having kids, and smiled.

She urged the two of them on and away they went, making their way North along the kingsroad. The path was familiar to her, having walked it nearly a dozen times now, but it didn't make the journey any less uncomfortable.

"What ya thinkin bout 'Arry?" He hated silence and didn't take long to fill it. "Ya thinkin about what you want ta do after this? I don' see you bein no lady, if ya ask me."

"No," She laughed. "That would be my sister. I don't know what I want to do, Hot Pie."

It was the truth, she didn't know what she wanted anymore.

"Sure ya do, Arya." He tried to say her name though it just sounded like are-yuh. "Ya have your family back, ya have your castle and the North back, and the Queen is gone now. You're safe."

"Thank you, Hot Pie." He was sweet, if nothing else. "I don't know where I belong anymore, truly. I don't feel familiar anywhere anymore, so maybe the answer it to go somewhere new."

"Like where? All the way in the Summer Isles or somethin'?"

"Maybe west of Westeros." The thought had been there for so long now, calling to her, drawing her in.

"There is nothing West of Westeros, 'Arry." He looked at her now as though she were mad. "Just the sea."

"Mayhaps. What do you want Hot Pie? A family, or are you in love with your oven?"

The two of them shared a laugh that rang throughout the forest. It was a nice moment to share, one she hadn't had in a while.

"I guess I might want a nice wife and some little ones some day." He laughed a bit then as well, blushing. "You never told me what happened down south, ya know."

"Half the city blew up. Wildfire." She took a deep breath, remembering the explosions. "The dragon queen set them off I think. I don't think she meant to though, she couldn't have known about them."

"How'd ya get outta there?"

"A friend helped me escape in time." She thought of Sandor and his last words. "I used tunnels under the Red Keep to escape, they open out on the beaches."

"That would've been good to know back in Flea Bottom." He laughed, and she was thankful for the easy transition away from the subject

It wasn't as easy as he thought it had been. Sure, Sandor had urged her out and she had made it to the tunnels, but along the way, she saw the people screaming, heard the earth-shaking booms that rung throughout the city like crashes of thunder happening one after the other. It was as if some great god were stacking mountains side by side just to watch them all tumble down. The smell hadn't taken her until she was almost below the castle, but by then the smoke and brimstone and charred flesh had filled the air. That had been the saddest thing, Arya thought, as the smell of burning flesh returned to her nose. Somehow so close but so distant.

They didn't get very far before the sun began to set and they agreed to set up camp. Unsurprisingly, Hot PIe proved useless at setting up a camp and she found herself erecting the campsite. Two crude tents and a makeshift firepit gave them food and shelter for the night.

"It's good rabbit, 'Arry. Better than what we ate when we were with the brotherhood." He was only trying to lighten the mood, she hoped the smile she shot his way was convincing.

"Aye, I'm likely a better hunter now." It would be a long night. "You go to bed once you're done, I'll take first watch for us."

"Watch for what?"

"There are still things out there that can hurt us, Hot Pie. The war is never truly over."

He went to his tent soon and Arya lowered the fire, not wanting it to produce too much light but needing the heat. She couldn't sleep if she wanted to. Her mind swirled as she saw the burning homes, the burnt people, the smoky skies. The horrors of war, she remembered the voices of so many she had been with who reminded her that this was just life and that was the way of it. She refused to accept that. Life was not suffering.

But she couldn't deny what she saw. Not a mile outside of the city a small village had been on the plain. Perhaps four or five huts with bits of farming areas and livestock pens here and there. When she arrived somehow a chunk of red stone had flown there and crashed into the village and through the trees just beyond. Green flames dripped from the stone itself and she saw its streak through the village and trees as the strip of green fire burned like emerald stars with normal fires burning through the rest. The screams rang out as Arya had sprinted up to them, piercing the air, broken only by the whipping and crackling of the hot winds all around them.

"Take my hand!" Arya had screamed, but she was too late. They were all trapped and burning, any who had survived had likely ran as soon as they saw the debris flying from the city. Wildfire was nothing like anything she had ever seen. No oil or pitch explosion could ever have done this. Not even dragonfire, she imagined.

Arya had to run away as well, going away inside so as not to hear the screams as the men, women, and children were consumed by the flames that clung to everything like a hellish mud.

A crack off to the right took her from her thoughts and from the memories of the little girl covered in wildfire. There are still things that can hurt us, she had said to Hot Pie only an hour earlier. Death must have heard her, and sent his messenger. Though this was not death. Nor was it any man. Arya could feel this presence out there, in a way that was unlike how she sensed other people's presence. This was something much closer, she knew.

"Nymeria?" It was only a whisper but soon those dark golden eyes glowed against the moonlight as she came through a thicket of woods.

There were dozens of sets of eyes all around her though Arya didn't care. As the two wolves looked into one another's eyes, Arya felt a pull inside of her. One she had only felt in her sleep, though the pull was there all the same. It was if Nymeria's soul was calling her own to join her. To run in the moonlight as free as a spirit.

"I'm here girl, you can come to me." Arya held out her hand, so the wolf could get her scent.

There was no snarling, no apprehension, just understanding between the two beings. Nymeria turned away then and walked off. The pack followed her and for a moment, Arya thought that the wolf was leaving again, until soon she saw that the wolf was circling them, and soon the wolves were all spread around the encampment her and Hot Pie had made, sitting and looking out. I guess they're on watch now, Arya laughed lightly to herself, not sure of what to think.

For the first time in years, Arya felt safe enough to let her guard down, and entered her tent to give herself this night of rest. In her dreams, she bounded under the moonlight, across the grasses and leaves, over the rivers and crevices throughout the woods, allowing her spirits to fly freely through the night sky.