ARYA

"The Lone Wolf"

It felt righteous to kill the cunts that murdered her Mother and brother. She imagined what it felt like for Walder Frey to watch them die. She knew that murder was an experience of sensation—sometimes it felt powerful to take something so precious from another, but this sensation was for those who were weak or wanters. Other times the feeling makes you sick—these people weren't killers, not true ones. Sometimes people break and they kill. No, the sensation that Arya was after was pure revenge; to get even. She knew that crossing off her list of names would not bring her joy or return what she had lost. She simply wanted those who had wronged her and anyone who did not deserve it, to suffer. In a sense she views herself as a bearer of death. She didn't care about the bloody gods except for death because it comes for all. As far as she was concerned she makes her own decisions. Nothing had stopped her yet and nothing would. Not after the training she had endured with the Faceless Men.

She was sitting atop a branch of a tree watching her target, ten meters away. He had just entered his tent with another older man. They just arrived onto Kingsroad and she had been following him since the Twins. This man wasn't even on her list of names so she wouldn't tell him her name; he wasn't worth it. He was just a dumb, rich cunt and only one person would care if he died which was a bonus in Arya's game. She sat there sharpening her daggers, and on her thigh sat a piece of burnt rabbit leg. She stole it from drunk soldiers gathered around a fire. She would wait here for a while until the other general left the tent—sure she could take both of them but there was no need for her to be careless. She ran her plan through her head various times with different outcomes. In some of them she was injured and was forced to flee sooner than she wanted. In others backup came and she would use a spear in the left corner to take them out. However, one thing that wouldn't change was the face that she would steal.

"We will reach King's Landing in a fortnight given the King doesn't send other orders.", one of the men—not her target—said. She was listening to their conversation, using the training from the House of Black and White. She was able to ignore noise that she didn't want to hear and this helped her to hear her own thoughts better as well.

"Of course. Have Bronn stop by my tent on your way out.", her target said.

"Of course, Ser."

Arya watched as the older gentleman left. Great another cunt I'll have to kill. Going out of her way was something Arya did not like to do. It was too spontaneous and this was not the way Jaqen trained her; a killer had to be graceful if they wanted to be an assassin. Luckily her time training with Syrio Forel and the Hound taught her how to play the game of Westerosi warfare as well—which to her was not graceful, but brutish and aggressive. Another thing that was lucky was that the bald man was coming her way.

Arya let her waist fall to the side of the tree branch with her thighs gripping it and now she was upside down. She grabbed the branch below her head and swung her body into a flip to the next tree—which was about five meters from her. She hit the tree hard, but noise wasn't an issue for a Faceless Man as they spent years learning to distribute their weight evenly. She wrapped her arms around the trunk of the tree and set her feet on two adjacent branches. She waited until the man was two steps from being under her and let herself fall onto his shoulders. He grunted, but before he could react she flipped her wrist revealing her steel dagger and slit his throat. She jumped down and watched the man fall to his knees gripping his throat. Blood poured out the gash in his neck, splashing on his gold armor. She sheathed her dagger and waited for him to fall limp. Next she sat his body against a tree so that he wouldn't be discovered until she was long gone.

Arya fixed her low bun and walked towards the tent of her target. Her arms to her back, along with her two sheaths for her long daggers; Needle to her side. She had acquired the daggers from the House of Black and White and they sliced through flesh as if cutting silk. She stood at the opening and slowly entered the wide maroon tent. The tent had a table in the middle with several burning candles, a pitcher of wine, parchment, ink, and lion pieces on a map. Her target was preoccupied sitting at the table writing. She glanced to her left and seen the wooden holder with a Dornish spear and two Westerosi steel swords. I'll have the spear after it is done. She glanced to her right and seen a sleeping cot. She glanced in front of her again and stared intently, while clearing her throat.

"Bronn, done fucking tonight's whores, are we?"

"No.", Arya replied. Jaime Lannister noticed a girl's voice and stopped writing. He glanced up.

"Oh haha. Now who are you? You don't look like a whore.", he replied nonchalantly. He smirked while pouring wine into a mug. He couldn't place the girl, but she seemed oddly familiar with her dark hair and wide, expressive blue eyes. The candle light reflected off the side of her wide face.

"No."

"The proper way to respond would be: No, Ser. I am a knight after all.", he said. He took a gulp of his wine.

"No.", Arya responded. She gripped on one of the dagger's hilts with her left hand. She would steal his face, but first she had to kill him. The most important thing of taking a face is that the person has to be killed first and only by the wearer. Taking a face while the person was alive at first would ruin the face, as their muscles wouldn't be relaxed.

"Oh feisty, are we? If you aren't a whore, then why did you come to a rich knight's tent?"

"I'm here to kill you."

"Now why would you want to do that?", Jaime asked. He wasn't quite sure her game, but he indulged it. It was attractive on her.

"You speared Ned Stark in the streets." Arya took a step. "You killed Jory Cassel." She took another step. "You conspired with House Frey to murder Catelyn and Robb Stark at the Red Wedding." She noticed Jaime get uneasy as one of his eyes twitched.

Jaime sat there staring at the short girl and that's when he realized who she was. I was for sure she was dead. She was Arya Stark. The girl he took an oath to protect and to bring home. He could never forget her eyes because they were the same eyes he stared into long ago when swearing that very oath to her mother. Before he could even reach his sword—which was behind his seat—he was stabbed in the hand. He yelled in agony. He felt the blade pierce through his hand and into the table. How could she move so fast? He panicked and tried to pull his hand out, but Arya didn't move her hand. She inched forward to look him in the eyes.

Arya twisted the dagger and made sure it was anchored into the table. "Because of you and your wretched sister my House is no more!", she yelled. She didn't mean to let her emotions get the best of her, but it enraged her to think of what she had taken from her. A tear escaped her eye.

"Yo-you're Arya Star-k. I swore an oath to protect you and your sister, to your mother—Catelyn Stark!"

"I don't care, my mother and my sister are dead because of you, and now you die too.", Arya said. She had regained her composure. She pulled out her other dagger and walked behind her target. She pulled her dagger to his throat and exhaled.

"No! Listen to me! Sansa lives, I sent Brienne of Tarth to find her and she did! Jon Snow—your bastard brother is with her as well! H-he rules the North now."

"Liar! A dead man tells many lies. How could I trust you?", Arya asked. She knew he was most likely lying but if there was any chance he was telling the truth she had to know. Please.

"Read it! There! On the table, the parchment. No, that one! See?", Jaime yelled. He was panicking. Arya read the words and suddenly started shaking. How?

"Did you read it?", Jaime asked. His hand was leaking blood through the wood of the table and onto the floor. He winced at the pain throbbing through his only hand.

"Stop talking.", Arya murmured. She walked over to the Dornish spear which had a redwood base and steel blade on the end. Embedded into the blade was a ruby on both sides. She grabbed it and twisted it, before drawing it in front of Jaime's face. "Tell Cersei that winter came for House Frey and that winter is coming for House Lannister. Tell her that Arya Stark lives and that I am a Faceless Man. One day I will come for her and she won't know it is me as I will wear the face of another—possibly yours."

Arya walked closer to the table, relieving the spear at her side and pulled the dagger out of his hand. He winced. She waited until he made eye contact with her and she stared for two seconds, before disappearing into the night.

So the pack lives?

…

Next time: Arya makes it home, only to discover that it isn't as welcoming as she thought.

Thanks for reading. Review, so I know what you guys think. :)