8) Eyes in the North
Catelyn.
The shared love and tears between her two daughters of the early days since Sansa's arrival had soon turned to the usual bickering and fighting. And Catelyn couldn't be happier: things are slowly going back to normal.
But the waiting and sitting still was starting to grate on her. They were stuck in Riverrun just waiting for news. Where was Robb? How was the war faring? Had the Ironborn been defeated at Moat Cailin? Where was he going next? And how was Nymeria faring? Had she found her siblings or was she still on the road?
She had stopped asking Arya for fear of worrying her more than she already was. Catelyn knew that as soon as Arya had something to share with her, she would – whatever it was.
News from Robb were easier to find since he dutifully and periodically wrote. Sometimes Edmure would get an update on the war effort or he would get new instructions. Sometimes Arya would get a letter and, since Arya had apparently told Robb about Sansa, she would get a few lines as well. But mostly it was her getting those precious parchments.
Robb's army had been successful at Moat Cailin. They had driven the Ironborn away and now the invaders were scattered in small groups throughout the North. His strategy had changed now. Part of the army, mostly comprised by Northern men, would scout the North rooting out the Ironborn. They hoped to enlist more men to their numbers as they liberated castle after castle. The rest of the army, Riverlords in their vast majority, would be returning to the Riverlands to stave off the Lannister attack. … He was coming back. Her Robb was coming back.
.
.
.
Arya.
She had missed the cold. Kings Landing had been too hot, too smothering, too crowded. Her time on the run had been the opposite, but with no food and no shelter, she could never feel comfortable knowing death awaited her at every turn. Now she was finally free, running wild in the cool vast land that was the North she so adored.
Arya wished she could be there too, but having Nymeria there was enough for now.
Cold fresh air. Vast green fields slightly covered in white. Thick woods.
Warm salty food. Red food. Red water to quench her thirst. Nourishment of different kinds and different sources. Some had four legs and fur. Some were small with long ears and ran very fast. Some could swim and some could fly. … Some had steel in their hands and fabric on their bodies – those quenched a thirst of a different kind …
She started to recognize the terrain. She saw the familiar towers and the familiar trees. She had run here when she was a pup. But she couldn't stay. Her brothers were not here. They had followed the cold. So she would follow the cold too.
Footprints. Different sets of footprints travelling together. One pair was big and left a deep print. Others left smaller prints. Some came in sets of four. These were the ones she recognized.
She howled. She heard a howl. Her brothers. She heard human howls. She could not understand those.
"Wait!" she yelled. "Stop"
And wait and stop they did. Her brothers had been expecting her. They had tried to get the humans to come back, but they wouldn't. They had kept going. But not any more. She howled and the wolves howled back.
She ran. Her brothers awaited.
They were bigger than the last time she had seen them.
They were not alone, as she had already sensed.
She had never met the others before. But she knew she had nothing to fear from them.
Her brothers welcomed her. Her human brothers cheered and petted her. The strangers watched her with apprehension. The humans talked and discussed but she couldn't understand.
Her human brothers smiled.
.
.
Arya woke up with a loud gasp.
"Mother, they are safe. They're coming home"