Arya II

It had been nearing a month since she had left Kings Landing. But even now much farther north, the stench of shit and piss still lingered in the air. Whilst she was still in the city, she had become so accustomed to it that it no longer bothered her, but now she was no longer in the heart of the city, it was the only thing she was actively thinking about other than her family. Everything had happened so quickly. Her father telling both her and Sansa that he had arranged to have them smuggled out, and then to all the chaos over something her father had done. She had been training with Syrio when it had happened. At first, Arya had not noticed it. But when her wooden sword was removed with a trick shot from her dancing master, bending down to collect it before spotting the numerous guards and Goldcloaks there were surrounding them.

Dread had filled her in a way she had never felt before, and Syrio understood too as he had stood in front of her and began speaking to them, thick Braavosi accent breaking the silence well as she manoeuvred herself so that she was completely hidden. Hearing the words from Meryn Trant confirming her father had sent them after her, but she wasn't stupid. Her father had stated that one person was going to be smuggling them out, and she doubted he would've gotten the Goldcloaks to do so. And most certainly not Lannister guards if the red and gold cloaks were anything to go by. Syrio challenged Meryn to a duel, and he shot her a simple alarmed look. Despite no words being spoken, she knew exactly what he was telling her to do.

Run.

And she had run. So much that her legs were aching and her ankles hurt from twisting them a few times. Weaving through people like she were water and they were simply objects in the way. Some reached out to grab her but she was quicker. Bending down, jumping over limbs, taking turns she never had to areas of the castle she had never explored before. And then she had felt a hand grab her and pull her into a dark corridor, another hand pressing over her hand to quieten her loud breathing as she fought to catch her breath. Biting down so hard that she tasted flesh and fresh blood in her mouth which caused her to gag but it had the desired effect as said hand came lose. Said person cursing quietly in pain.

"Your father didn't give me that warning, boy."

"I'm a girl!"

That had come out louder than she expected it to, looking around her in alarm as she had likely just given away her location by doing so. Arya had tried to run again then, but he had already clamped his uninjured hand under her arms and holding her secure to his body. There was a nasty scent coming from the man, a scent she knew well from the few servants who regularly chewed on sourleaf, said scent mixing with something else that was sour- almost like spoiled milk which almost made her gag again but by now his remaining hand clamped over her mouth again which had haphazardly been covered in some black cloth. A few droplets of blood were falling to the ground from where she had bit down hard, but that was the last thing she was thinking of.

"Listen here, boy. You're a smart boy aren't you? Now, you will do as your father said and you will be following me out of the city. Do I make myself clear boy?"

She squirmed more at this but there was no time to think as footsteps were heard nearby, the man cursing silently again before lifting her off the ground as if she weighed nothing more than a feather and running further down the corridor. Trying to figure out what was happening. Was this who her father had sent? Catching sight of his reflection in a looking glass they passed, an odd feeling of calmness spreading throughout as she spotted the all black clothing. A brother of the Night's Watch. There was only one word that came to her mind currently, and that was chaos. Heart hammering inside her chest like it were a drum in the background as a battle raged on. Frantically kicking as she tried to break free but he did not let up on his grip despite being in pain. She could feel blood beginning to dry at the corners of her lips now and this combined with the spoiled milk scent that came from his hand directly below her nose made her want to vomit immediately.

His footsteps were quiet, but compared to what Syrio's were, they were loud. Echoing just enough that someone could trace them if they knew how to, and Arya was not stupid. Her hair was beginning to get tangled in amongst scraggly black hair. Despite not having gotten a good look at it yet, she just knew he had probably not brushed it in weeks, possibly months. It felt like hours had passed before their surroundings had changed. From bright red bricks to dark orange to pale orange and now to grey, and up ahead she could see they appeared black- but that could just be because there were no torches aligning the walls there. Taking a sharp turn and exiting out at a narrow street that if the stench was anything to go by, was close to Flea Bottom.

Arya was pressed against a wall now, taking in the appearance of the man who had just gotten her out of the Red Keep. She was correct about his hair being scraggly. Looking more like an unkempt horses tail than human hair, eyes so dark they also appeared black, and his lips stained red from the sourleaf he was currently chewing that looked ominously like blood. Or perhaps it was a mixture of both as he had probably bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling out when she had bit him.

"Now boy, you will do what I say-"

With a hard yank of her neck, she managed to free her mouth.

"I'm a girl, not-"

"I thought you were smarter than that boy."

Confusion ebbed deep within before she realised, he had removed a small knife from one of his many pockets, squirming as it came close to her face. Despite no words being spoken, the threat was very obvious and she pulled her lips into a tight line so as to not antagonise him any more than she needed to. The knife beginning to cut away at her hair until it fell to just below her ears, tears welling up in her eyes at this. Whilst she hadn't taken care of her hair like Sansa had, she had still liked it, especially the way it curled just like Jon's had. Gods, Jon! She hadn't heard from him in what seemed like forever.

"I don't have anything-"

"Follow me boy."

Tears were stinging her eyes now, but she was slowly lowered so her feet were on solid ground again. For a split moment, she had wanted to take off again, but where would she go? She didn't know the city well, had only ventured out into it a handful of times and only in the nicest parts. She didn't have any friends she could go to either. The only people she could trust were probably Vayon and Jory. Desperately trying to stop herself from crying, for once, Arya done as she was told. Following this man until they got to a few carts where a couple of dozen people already were. From their clothing, it was easy to tell they were prisoners or from the lowest parts of the city. Being led over to one of the carts that was currently occupied by three others. One who was overweight and had curly hair. One that was freakishly tall, skinny, and blonde hair that looked like straw from a barn. The last one she couldn't see as they were wearing a helmet which concealed much of their face. A helmet in the shape of a bull, with horns long and the metal polished and worked in a way she knew it had to be expensive.

"Arry, this is Hot Pie, Lommy, and Gendry. You will be travelling with them for the journey. Your belongings are in that case there. Oh and that damned cat is somewhere too, little bastard scratched me more than a few times."

Her eyes widened a little at this, noticing now that it was her suitcase. But it had been torn open and something had been thrown on it to stain it to give it the look of it falling apart. Relief rushing through her the same way rivers flow freely over cliffs. She had Needle, that was all she needed to feel a sense of calm. This being broken by a loud meow from the side and soon the straggly black cat ran over to her and began pawing at her feet. In the little time she had been caring for the cat she had worked for days to catch, had grown attached to her and rarely left her side. There were times she felt like someone was watching her and she would simply turn around to see it staring her way. Sansa and Jeyne had hated it, both wanting to scare it away due to its haggard appearance, but she couldn't bring herself to get rid of it. Like him, she was an outsider and felt like she was alone often. Bending down to scoop him into her arms and stepping into the cart.

"What's a scraggly thing like you doing heading for the Wall?"

The Wall? That was where they were heading? Now, she was surer than ever. This was the man her father had tasked to find her and her sister. Scanning everyone for a flash of red but she came up empty handed. Gut beginning to coil inside of her but she had no time to think on where she was as the horses began trotting away. Thinking of an answer to give to the other boy.

"I was caught steeling some bread. I'm small you see so I'm good at it-"

"Clearly not if you were caught."

The sharp remark caused her insides to burn in anger but she settled on a simple harsh glare.

"Actually, someone I trusted turned me in. The choice was my hands or the Wall."

Why were lies as such flowing so freely from her lips? Not that she was going to complain about it though. Her gut was still wrenching inside of her as they steadily moved their way through the streets, only letting out a loud breath when the walls surrounding the city had come and gone. They had travelled for weeks after this. Stopping at places as they went to freshen up or to walk about and stretch their legs as they went. Their first stop had been Rosby. There were two towns and a village close to the large Keep that was the seat of House Rosby. The village itself reminded her a lot of Wintertown nearby her own home, but instead of a small Godswood there was a small Sept considering her own faith was extremely uncommon south of the Neck.

They had remained there for four days, gathering four other recruits to travel with them before they were heading off again. The road was bumpy and the wooden cart itself was horribly uncomfortable, so the few times they had stopped, she had lapped it up. Stretching into awkward positions and running on occasion which got her a few odd looks but she didn't mind. From there, they had travelled to Duskendale. A horrid feeling of foreboding entering her as they entered the walls considering what had happened here not even thirty years prior if her lessons were correct. When Lord Denys Darklyn had tried to rise his House to be above its already decent station by holding the Mad King hostage for months on end who was later rescued by a borderline reckless move by Ser Barristan.

And to an extent, she was related to the Mad King as they did share a relative. Even if one hadn't known as he had already been dead from the hands of one of his own Kingsguard a couple of months before the other was born. What was Jon doing now? Her father hadn't spoken of him since she had cornered him after overhearing Varys and Illyrio in those tunnels below the Red Keep. Words spinning in her head and confusing her as she remembered that, trying to piece it all together.

A plan to have someone pose as a Blackfyre to recruit the Golden Company? Rallying allies? About whether or not to tell Jon or as they referred to him- the northern dragon? About two being in Essos and one in Westeros?. And that wasn't even the most damning thing she had overheard that day, about how 'their' dragon also had an egg. Where were all these dragon eggs coming from? They were considered priceless by many and others would willingly purchase one for a massive army. They had already been desirable before the civil war between Aegon II and his half-sister Rhaenyra, but after they had gone extinct during the reign of Aegon III, their value increased dramatically. They had to have come from somewhere, and there were only two things that caught her eye regarding this when she had been studying under one of the many Maester's there were in the Red Keep.

One being the three that had gone missing when Elissa Farman had stolen from Dragonstone from Rhaena during the reign of Jaehaerys I and Good Queen Alysanne, trading said objects for a huge ship so she could sail west of Westeros to find out what was there. Them supposedly being traded in Braavos by the then Sealord of said city. The second being from the tragedy of Summerhall. Where Aegon V had somehow acquired seven dragon eggs and after researching vigorously into it had figured out how to hatch them only for it to go terribly wrong. But dragons were fire made flesh, that was what the texts always said, could fire kill a dragon? If she recalled correctly, neither Targaryen dragon had died of fire but were only ever injured by it, would the same still hold for eggs? It was apparently how Jon had hatched his alongside two deaths happening around the same time which her father had confirmed he believed this was what caused had it.

Arya had heard the saying hundreds of times during her lessons with Maester Luwin which she much preferred over her lessons with Septa Mordane. With one she learned numbers, history, battles, and numerous other things. Whereas the other she only learned sewing, singing, and dancing. Two of which she was abysmal with at best and the other she was decent with so long as she had a blade in her hand. Duskendale itself was a lovely town, the salt from the sea air plentiful alongside the smell of fresh fish and numerous foods she could not place. And surprisingly, not a single stench of shit like she had become accustomed to since she had come to the south. House Rykker were currently holding said Seat considering the previous House who did were all executed for what they had done.

They stayed there for a week considering the sheer size of the city before moving further north towards Maidenpool. However, a thorn was thrown their way when one of the wheels of one of the carts went over a cluster of rocks at an odd angle and breaking as soon as it was on solid ground rendering it useless. Yoren- the man who had gotten her out of the Red Keep had cursed up a storm at that before loudly stating they would need to remain until it got fixed as there wasn't room for everyone else here. Someone had brought an axe which helped massively as he had walked over towards a decently sized tree and began hacking at it to make a new wheel.

Arya had reached into her belongings then, taking out Needle and walking into the woods nearby when nobody was looking to get some practise in. She hadn't had a chance to spar with anyone yet as Syrio had wanted her to master walking on her toes first so there would be no sound when attacking. Even now, her toes were crooked from it but she had still worked on it when she had a spare few moments. Attaching the sheath to her hip and removing the sword to look at it before swinging it in short yet calculated motions. Imagining a few people were surrounding her and were preparing to attack at any second. One stab to the belly, his water leaking out onto the grass between them, one slice across a leg as they fell to the ground, one through the neck. A snapping branch caught her attention as she spun around, seeing a small black feline sitting at the base of a tree staring at her. If she hadn't been seeing things, she could've sworn its eyes were white for a split second before finally seeing who it was who had come over.

It was the Bull, or Gendry as he was actually called. Carrying his helmet around like it was a body part like he always did. She'd seen him without it a few times now, but even now she couldn't place the familiarity of the man. At seventeen, he was considerably tall, being well over six feet which only made her feel more like a child beside him. Hair cut short like her own but instead of lying below the ears his was cut to just above the ears. Hair as black as night, skin as pale as snow, and eyes as blue as the winter roses which grew in Winterfell's glass gardens.

"What do you think you are doing? Fighting an imaginary friend?"

His lips pulled into a cocky smirk at that remark and she narrowed her eyes in annoyance at him before moving to walk towards the cat to scoop it up into her arms.

"I'm practising-"

"Are you sure about that? Looks more like you were spinning in circles and waving your arms like a lunatic."

Anger swelled within her at this. She fought how Syrio had taught her, and he was the First Sword of Braavos. A title that was justly earned, and here he was mocking the man her father had hired to teach her how to fight?

"Where did you get a sword like that anyway? Seems to be castle forged."

By now, she was practically seething, immediately understanding the implication he was making that she had stolen it. Dammit Arya, why make up a lie that she was a thief for why she was joining them on the long journey to Castle Black?

"My brother used to work in a castle, as a favour with the blacksmith there he had this made for me."

From the way he scoffed, she knew he didn't believe her in the slightest. Him walking over to inspect the blade in detail. She knew from the few times they had talked he was an apprentice to Tobho Mott but the man had thrown him on the streets as people kept wanting to seek him out for some reason and it was affecting business. From the few words, she knew Red Cloaks had taken an interest in him, and she would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't curious as to why.

"Here you go. Now, I must ask, what is a young lass doing with a sword?"

Her eyes widened for a split second before spinning on her feet to face him in shock. How?

"I'm not a girl, I'm a boy."

"Are you sure about that? Why don't you pull out your cock and take a piss then?"

If she wasn't certain before, she was now. This man was definitely getting on her nerves. She could feel her ears heating up but she managed to keep her face relatively still.

"Why do I need to pull out my cock and take a piss?"

Gendry opened his mouth to retort before shutting it and turning around in confusion. What had caught his attention? Closing her own mouth and evening her breath as best she could whilst remaining as still as a statue. She was straining at first before she heard whatever it was that had caught his attention. Horse hooves, a lot of them. Panic seeped into her and before thinking, she had grabbed the cat which yelped angrily at her for doing so, kicking against her arm to be let go but she refused to do so, running towards the rest of the group. When they emerged, Yoren gave her an unimpressed look and signalled for her to sheath her sword but she managed to speak beforehand.

"There's a few horses heading our way, no idea how many but they're in the woods."

The elder gave her a startled look at this, mouth opening ever so slightly to reveal his red stained teeth before cursing silently and spitting on the ground, it coming out a gross pink colour from the amount of sourleaf he constantly chewed on. If she didn't know any better, Arya would've said he did so in his sleep too. Probably free runners or raiders as it didn't seem like there were many of them. If she had to guess, perhaps eight or nine but others might not have been moving.

"Everyone with weapons be prepared in case it's trouble."

They all done so. Some with knives, one other with a sword, the one with the axe they were using to chop the tree down to make a new wheel for the cart. They'd gotten it down now and had chopped it to size but they had still to put all the spokes in and to attach it so they could be on their way again. The hooves got louder and soon five people on massive mounts rode free from the trees, and one of them she recognised. Lord Beric Dondarrion, what was he doing here? As far as she was aware, he had been summoned to Kings Landing for something so why was he so far north? Three of the others were familiar to her too but she couldn't put a name to either face. However, she had seen them around the castle. The last was a young boy, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. With hair a silver-blonde and with dark purple eyes.

Lord Edric Dayne.

Despite no words being spoken, it was obvious to her who this was. The man had become Lord when he was only six name-days after his parents had gotten ill with a sickness that spread rapidly through the western parts of Dorne and the southernmost areas of the Reach.

"Who goes there?"

"Lord Beric Dondarrion of Blackhaven and Lord Edric Dayne of Starfall, you lot look like you could use some help there, what happened?"

"Damned wheel decided to break."

It went quiet for a few seconds before Beric snorted and let out a loud laugh at the quick response. Jumping off his horse alongside his squire and walking over, but it didn't miss her gaze when Edric gave her a quick look before following the older. Confusion ebbed deep within her but she knew she couldn't voice this aloud or show it as no one knows she was a girl other than Yoren and now Gendry. Gods, she was going to need to be much more careful now so as not to expose herself. People would be looking for her, even more so if the rumours of her father doing something that was unfavourable were true. And if she had the choice of going back to that shit pile of a city or being on the run, she would happily remain on the run. Even more so now that arrogant prick was King after the death of his father. Sansa may have ignored a lot to do with her betrothed because she believes life to be a song of gallant Knight's and wonderful royals. Idiot, the truth of Jon should've been enough to curb that belief in her.

"That's a nice sword you got there, are you any good?"

Arya snapped out of her gaze and turned around, only realising now a lot of time must've passed whilst she was lost in her thoughts as it was steadily getting darker as the sun was setting below the treeline.

"I'm still learning, my Lord. My brother got me the sword as a parting gift when my father moved me to the capital. My elder brother remained behind as he is a man grown. I haven't had much time to actually practise though."

Now, he turned to scan her face before unsheathing his own, holding it out for her to scan in detail. It was considerably longer than her own, but not to the same extent Ice was or even Dark Sister. About the same thickness of a great sword and deadly sharp with a singular inscription down the centre of it.

"What does that mean?"

They were written in a language she had never seen before, and even if it was she wouldn't have been able to read it anyway unless it was common enough that she would've picked up on it.

"It loosely translates to 'flames conquer all'. It's an ancient language that no one can read anymore other than a few sentences- this being one of them. My ancestors passed it down through the generations with us Dayne's but we lost it somewhere along the line. They're our House words."

Flames conquer all. Trying to wrack in her mind if she had ever been told about House Dayne's words. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't recall ever hearing them. Him moving his sword to signal to move away, nerves ebbing deep within at this as clearly he wanted to test her with a spar. Knees threatening to knock together but she kept it hidden decently. As still as a statue. Silent as a shadow. Quick as a snake. As much as she hated to think it, deep down she knew that Syrio had not made it out of there. Why had so many people surrounded them? Why was Meryn Trant trying to get her to come with him?

"I wasn't aware of House Dayne's words, my Lord."

"That's because we keep them hidden. Unlike other House's, our words are sacred. They're a parallel to your own House words, my Lady."

Fuck, he knew who she was. How? Her mouth beginning to open but no matter how hard she tried, words would not form.

"You look like your cousin, my Lady. He spoke fondly of you when he came to Starfall with my uncle. With your story of how you got your own sword it was easy to piece two and two together. Ready?"

It was sheer reflex when she moved Needle up to meet against his own sword which he had swung with next to no warning at her. Eyes narrowing before trying to land a hit on him, each one being dodged effortlessly. The entire time his words were slowly embedding within her. He had called Jon her cousin, which meant he knew the truth. Had he always known or had he been brought into it much later like she had? Then the second part came into her mind as her eyes widened once again. He had said his uncle, and he only had one uncle, but he was supposedly dead. Killed by her own father as he was trying to get to his sister who had just given birth to Jon minutes before. This proved to be her downfall as she was disarmed of her own blade and his was jokingly lowered under her neck.

"You're certainly decent, but you've got a lot of work to be considered good."

Her heart swelled at this. Getting a compliment from someone who was related to someone as notorious as the Sword of the Morning was something many would probably trip over themselves hundreds of times to get. Bending down to pick it up and sheath it once again.

"I thought your uncle was dead."

"As did I, Lady Arya. I found out not long before I left with Lord Beric to come to Kings Landing. I met your cousin. He came to Starfall to recruit men."

"Why would he be recruiting men?"

Edric looked around for any prying ears before whispering just loud enough for her to pick up.

"He's pressing his claim and I'd imagine he's going to do so soon. Especially when the truth of the current King and his siblings reached us. I'd imagine it's not common knowledge in the Red Keep as Cersei Lannister will be threatening those who have figured it out or has already gotten their silence forever. Turns out Lannister's like to keep it in the family too like the Targaryen's did and all are products of such."

If she had been eating or drinking anything in that moment, she would've choked. A loud coughing sound leaving her as she spun on her ankles to stare at Edric in shock. Remembering when Varys had spoken that he believed he was preparing to make a claim but at the time she had simply brushed it off. Before she had left for the capital. Jon had been adamant he wanted nothing to do with the Iron Throne. At first, she had wanted to say he was lying directly to her, but why else would he have gone to Starfall? She could've argued that Edric was simply trying to curry favour with her but something was telling her this was not the case. He had no need to lie to her as he had nothing to gain from it.

"He told me he wasn't going for it-"

"He doesn't want the throne, he wants vengeance. But if he succeeds in getting vengeance he is going to be the one sitting on that throne at the end of it all. He's securing it before the inevitable happens. Hence my aunt now being betrothed to Lord Beric- one extra ally to the cause. She's known the whole time you see. We spread the word to a few people who are known to like talking too much in the capital. It won't be long before that piece of information reaches the Lannister bastard currently-"

"Edric, come. We have to get to the Mummer's Ford soon as it's where the Mountain was spotted last."

Arya opened her mouth to say something to him but he simply shot her a small grin before mounting his horse and kicking his heel into it to break into a gallop alongside those he was with. Now, her mind was whirring at a pace she had never experienced beforehand. Trying to piece the puzzle together that had just been bestowed upon her. Jon was going for the throne, but not for a crown. The reasoning ringing as clear in her ear as the bells did in the capital at the end of each day. Siblings he had never known, siblings that had been butchered for their name. A mother whose reputation was sullied by a kidnap rumour, and a father who was known as a rapist when he wasn't.

"What'd the kid want? And why was he speaking to you? You're just a scrawny little thing."

She opened her mouth to retort but Yoren stepped between them, narrowing his eyes and spitting on the ground between them. If neither were aware of the amount of sourleaf the man chewed on, they would've thought it was blood.

"Both of you need to get over this nonsense. You're to be brothers soon so you'd best act like it."

A tiny snort left her at this as she glared at the older male. Whilst she was going to be eternally grateful he had gotten her out of the capital, there was something utterly detestable about Yoren that she couldn't put her finger on. Wondering if this was how Jon felt about Theon. Robb had always brushed his concerns off but they told one another everything. They were the outsiders, the two who didn't fit, and they looked the most alike one another. Jon ironically looked more like a Stark than Robb, Bran, and Rickon. All her siblings inheriting their mothers auburn hair and bright blue eyes.

"Tell him to stop calling me scrawny-"

"Then you need to stop calling him a fattie. You can try to deny it boy but I hear more than I let on. Now come, this damned wheel is almost repaired. If we're lucky, we'll be back on our journey on the morrow."

Her face burned in a mixture of anger and embarrassment at this over being called out like that. She'd thought she had been quiet when she had mocked the others, clearly that wasn't the case. The other boy walking over to his own cart and jumping in, taking a chunk of wood whilst he was at it alongside a small knife from his pocket to begin carving something. Probably just to pass the time much like she practised with Needle. A few were looking to her oddly now for talking to a Lord, neither of them would ever dream of doing so amicably. Dammit, she needed to keep her guard up so as to not draw any suspicion. Right now, she was not Arya Stark of Winterfell.

He was Arry of Flea Bottom, son of some merchant who was struggling and he offered to steal to make life easier for the two of them. Arry didn't know what it was like to go to bed every night with a belly full to bursting. Arry didn't know what it was like to wake up in a featherbed every morning. Arry didn't have a Lord Paramount for a father nor did he have four brothers and a sister. He only had one brother he had left behind years before and the only remnants he had was the sword he carried at his hip. Swallowing his pride, he walked over to see they had removed one of the other wheels and were marking out the spokes so they were even. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small carving knife he had stolen from someone many months ago.

"Here, you can use this to carve out the spokes. It's much sharper, stole it from a Lord stumbling down a street drunk a year ago."

In reality, she had gotten the knife from Robb from the presenting ceremony they had on each of their name-days. The only other person who knew she had it was Jon. Her father had been reluctant to let her keep Needle and only then he let her keep it if she stuck in hard at her lessons which she had done with more than a few bruises and scrapes.

With the knife, they were able to carve through the wood easily, being able to break parts off as they went. The end product didn't look like the other wheels, but upon testing it seemed good to go. At least until they got to Maidenpool eventually which with luck, would only be a couple of days unless something else came up. The next morning they had all woken bright and early, Yoren catching a few rabbits through the night which they feasted on eagerly, some even stating they had never tasted something so good before. To her, the meat was a little bland with none of the spices Old Nan or the cooks normally used, but it was a wake up call for her. Right now, she was nothing more than a thief who had chosen the Wall over losing his hands.