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The Golden Company is on Dany's side, they came with her from Essos. (F)Aegon died in Meereen, in the next chapter Dany will speak about what happened to him.


Archery

The arrow almost misses the target. Usually Arya is better than that. Far better, but her thoughts are elsewhere now.

It is not hard to tell where exactly.

"Sansa agreed she would wed with Lord Harrion." It is a statement, not a question.

"She did." Catelyn stands some steps away from her in the new fallen snow. Nymeria lies beside her leaning to Catelyn's leg.

Arya draws the string, then, she loosens it without shooting the arrow. She lowers the bow, her eyes narrows, fixing on the man of straw.

"And Bran will be fostered in White Harbor."

Catelyn raises her eyebrows. She has expected Sansa to talk to Arya about her engagement, this comment, however, is surprising. Just a little bit though.

"Eavesdropping is not nice, Arya."

Her daughter shrugs and lifts the bow again.

"Nymeria heard it."

Catelyn looks down at the direwolf.

"Nymeria heard Robb and me maybe, but you listened to what we discuss."

When the arrow flies past the target, Arya swears in a low voice. So low that Catelyn cannot understand her words. But she senses Nymeria's weight disappearing. It seems the direwolf feels herself guiltier than her master. Catelyn fondles the wolf's head. For a while now, she does not have to bend down to do so.

"It has not been decided yet. If it was, you would know."

Arya nods taking another arrow. Her movements are more collected this time.

"Bran would like to be a knight and there are some in White Harbor," Catelyn explains in a lighter tone.

The arrow hits the man of straw's side.

"And there is that girl," Arya notes. "Wynafred."

"Wylla. Although, we've talked about sending you. For some time." While she speaks, Catelyn is watching Arya carefully. "Exciting place with travelers from all corners of the world… Or you could go to the Bear Island. You would like it."

"I think I would."

"What a pity that House Mormont has no sons at your age."

Arya's fifth arrow flies into the snow halfway between them and the target. She turns to Catelyn with a grimace.

"It's not funny, mother."

Catelyn smiles, though she did not mean it as a joke. Not completely.

"The day, when we do talk about that, will come," she warns her daughter.

"A day in the future."

"A day in the future." But Catelyn knows it will be a closer one than Arya hopes.

She goes to gather the arrows, then, she shoots all of them again. Catelyn thinks their previous conversation is over, but then, Arya sighs and, resignedly, declares, "But Sansa will marry soon."

"Yes, she will."