It is time to see how the little wolf is faring.

Be watchful and you will notice the presence of three characters of Game of Thrones who hadn't appeared in this fanfiction yet.


ARYA II

The cloth she used made a hiss every time she rubbed it against the stone. She was halfway of the twenty-second step, scrubbing until her hands were red and beyond. She was used to get dirty and to make activities that left her breathless and exhausted. Sometimes, she would fall asleep in the middle of supper, and Sansa would roll her eyes, reflecting once again that her sister didn't know how to behave like a lady, or berating her about the very same subject in a very lady-like manner. Still, being out of breath after an entire day of riding or have her muscles sore in the morning because she spent an entire night shooting arrows and fighting with a branch, imagining it was a sword, was different from her actual predicament.

She was at Harrenhal, one of the many people the Lannister army captured and forced to work for them as they occupied the castle. It had been exactly seventeen days now since she was taken prisoner with Hot Pie and Gendry.

She was there when her father was murdered. He said he plotted against King Robert and his son to usurp the throne, that he was a traitor. Arya didn't believe any of this. Her father wasn't like that. He was a good man, and he and the king were friends. That he tried to overthrow Joffrey, that she could believe, especially after what the boy did, but to plot against his best friend, that was simply impossible. Anyone who believed it was a fool and an idiot. Yoren had stopped her from looking while her father was being killed, but he couldn't stop her from seeing her father's lifeless body, missing a head on his shoulders, while her sister fainted in front of everyone.

Yoren had taken her with him and a group of recruits for the Night's Watch, saying he would bring her back to Winterfell, then continue on his way to Castle Black. However, they had a problem on their way. They were intercepted by a group of men serving the Lannisters led by Ser Armory Lorch. He killed Yoren and many of the people travelling with them to the Wall. Lommy, Hot Pie's friend, was killed by a man named Polliver with Needle after he took it from Arya. Lommy couldn't walk because he received an arrow in the leg during the battle, and Polliver killed him to not have the trouble to carry Lommy.

They were brought to the Lannister army, walking in line all the way, their fists tied by ropes. The knights of House Lannister took some time to plunder a village on their way and added their people to the prisoners they already had. She tried to stay with Gendry and Hot Pie as much as she could, though the men who captured them didn't really care whether they were with their friends or not. When they arrived at their destination, Arya saw for the first time in her life an army on the march.

She read about wars and heard about them, but seeing it was entirely different. The Lannister camp looked like a little city of tents, well organized, ready to hold a siege if need be. As soon as they were inside the encampment, they were intercepted by a knight with shining gold hair that she knew far too well. Ser Jaime Lannister, clad in a black and red armor to the opposite of his usual white cloak, looked at the lot of them. Arya tried to remain discreet, hiding herself among the prisoners, hoping her dirty state and her short hair would be enough for the Kingslayer to not recognize her.

"May I know what this is?" he asked.

"Prisoners," the man who called himself Armory Lorch said.

"I think it's quite obvious, Ser Armory, but I would like to know what they're doing here? If I recall, you were supposed to scout the area ahead of us, not to take peasants into custody."

"They resisted." The man who stole her sword stepped forward. Arya could see Needle dangling at his side. Her sword was so close, and yet out of her reach.

"Resisted? How?"

"They refused to give us food and shelter, so we destroyed their village."

"Did they fight you?"

"Some did. They were with a man of the Night's Watch. He was keeping a boy the City Watch of King's Landing was searching. They refused to give him to us. So we dealt with them."

Jaime Lannister turned to Ser Armory Lorch. "Is it true?"

"Yes, Ser Jaime," he answered.

"Why would officers of the City Watch look for a boy miles away from King's Landing?"

"I don't know, ser, but they were following an order from the king."

"That boy, he was with a man of the Night's Watch, you said? Was he going to the Wall?"

"I think so, ser, though I cannot be sure…"

"You attacked men heading for the Wall?"

"The gold cloaks said they had an order from the king…"

"Did they carry a royal decree with them?"

"No."

"So my nephew didn't deem this affair important enough to give these men an official document, and all the same, you attacked men of the Night's Watch?"

"They resisted…"

"Did they attack you?"

"No, ser, but…"

"Were they a threat to you and your men?"

"No, ser…"

"The Night's Watch is older than House Lannister, and they are respected even in the Riverlands, and even more so in the North. No one attacks the Night's Watch. Did you get the boy, in the least?"

Arya looked at Gendry, who kept looking on the ground. "He is dead. One of my men killed him."

"Who?" Without hesitation, Armory Lorch pointed Polliver. Jaime Lannister walked to him until one single feet separated them. "So, not only you attacked members of the Night's Watch unprovoked, but you killed the boy the king sent you to find?"

Polliver nodded. He looked nervous. Jaime Lannister turned around him, examining him from every angle. When he was back in front of Polliver, he scoffed and turned to Lorch. "Ser Armory, my uncle will need a serious discussion with you."

The Kingslayer turned away and Arya heard Polliver sighed in relief, right before the Lannister knight drew his sword and brought it at Polliver's neck. It didn't take his head away from his shoulders, but blood came out of his neck. His body fell on the ground as it shook, whatever was left of his life fading away.

Everyone stood in shock, the soldiers even more than their prisoners. Jaime Lannister pointed his sword, a thin line of blood on it, to Ser Armory. "When my lord brother gives the order to not kill or mistreat the people unless it is necessary, you obey. Pray that Ser Kevan is more merciful with you than I was with your mindless fool."

Arya felt it was justice, though it was strange for her that Jaime Lannister was the one who rendered it. At least he wielded the sword. The knight stared in disgust at the body at his feet. It had turned on his back in the fall. He approached it and seized Needle. He was examining it.

"Your men have curious weapons, Ser Armory. Where did he get it?"

The other knight shrugged. "Don't know, and don't care."

"Go and see my uncle. He will deal with you," the Lannister said on a very hard tone.

"What of the prisoners?"

Jaime looked at them with disinterest. "It would be useless to send them back. Their village is in ruins. Put them to work. Make them useful."

Arya had hoped that Kevan Lannister, who commanded the army, would execute Armory Lorch, but he didn't. The knight rode on his horse and wandered through the camp all the way to Harrenhal. Before the threat of a siege, Lady Whent surrendered without offering any resistance and the Lannisters took residence into the huge castle.

Arya did everything to not find herself in the presence of the Kingslayer or his uncle. They both saw her at court and could recognize her. Luckily enough, her physical appearance was very different and they didn't seem to notice her, let alone suspect that she was a girl.

Gendry worked in the smithy, Hot Pie in the kitchens, and Arya spent her days scrubbing floors and stairs. She spoke with them whenever she could, mostly when it was time to eat, but aside from that, she barely saw them. She asked Gendry is he knew what happened to Needle. Apparently, the Kingslayer was very interested in it. He brought it to Gendry and asked questions about it. Gendry swore he told him nothing, and Arya believed him. He said nothing about her true identity. He confessed to Ser Jaime that the sword was very good work, but didn't tell that it was castle-forged, so they may not link it to Arya.

She had asked Gendry if he could steal the sword if he saw it again, but Gendry told her it was impossible. He would be killed if he was caught. After being initially angry for his answer, she had to agree that he was right. She didn't want Gendry to die for Needle. She would find a way to get it back. She asked Hot Pie if he would know a way for it, but of course he had no idea. He was a cook, a kitchen boy. She even asked Jaqen to get her back her sword instead of one life, but he refused.

"A man owes you three lives, nothing more, nothing less, and nothing else."

Jaqen was very strange. She knew he was a murderer, but at the same time he was an ally here. She gave him the name of Ser Armory Lorch, for killing Yoren, and the day after Ser Armory fell from a window and died. Arya hadn't been sure of what Jaqen told her, but now she knew he would kill anybody she asked for. She still had two names to speak. She wasn't sure which ones to choose. There were many men she would like to see dead. After Ser Jaime killed Polliver, the men who captured them put them to work, like he ordered, but they also vented their frustration on them. Arya was also thinking about speaking Jaime Lannister's name, but she wasn't sure. He killed Polliver and seemed better than most of the people in the Lannister army. He mistreated no one. Arya still kept his name in mind just in case killing him would mean she could recover Needle.

"That's all you could do." Weese's spiteful voice came from behind. He was understeward of the Wailing Tower. He grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her against the wall.

"It took me longer," she said, as pain flashed in her shoulder.

"Longer? I was tempted to give you a nice piece of meat today. You work harder than the others. I thought you knew where your place was, but it seems I was wrong. Finish that. Don't bother to go to the kitchens. You'll eat in the evening."

Her stomach was grumbling. It wasn't the first time it happened but working hard all day with barely anything in the stomach was hard. She went back to work. She was done before the evening, well before in fact. She wasn't that late. She could have eaten later than the others.

She went to the kitchens. Near the entrance, she could see Hot Pie. She made a sign to tell him to come and see her. He ran at her.

"Can you give me something to eat?" she asked. "Not much. Just something. Weese forbade me from eating before tonight."

"Okay, Arry." He kept calling her Arry even though he knew that she was a girl now. "Can you just render me a service, please?"

"Aye."

"There's a lady who just arrived, and they told me to prepare something for her to eat, but the guy who was supposed to bring her tray is gone. He's nowhere to be found. Could you bring it to her? You know better than me how to behave before these people."

Arya agreed. A small piece of bread in her stomach later, she was bringing a tray full of food into one of the apartments of the Wailing Tower. It was a generous service, more generous than what she got at Winterfell. There was a nice piece of chicken with salad, potatoes, a peach, even strawberries. Her mouth watered, but she knew better than to eat from the tray. She already had enough marks on her back from beating, mostly gifts from Weese. He was among those she thought about saying his name to Jaqen.

The tray she brought was for a lady, indeed. When Arya walked into her room, she was writing something on a parchment. She raised her eyes to look at Arya the moment she entered.

"Thank you. Put the tray here." She indicated a place nearby on the same table she was working at. She set aside her plume and looked at the tray as Arya was placing it on the table. She sighed and shook her head.

"They gave me way too much." Arya found it unfair that so many people inside these walls only got bread crumbs while others said they had too much to eat. "Are you hungry?"

Arya had been looking at the tray, her stomach still rumbling. She could live without eating but starving while there was food right under her eyes was way more difficult. Deep green eyes were looking at her, an expression of pity in them, something Arya didn't see for a while.

"You can take these if you want." She offered her the bowl of strawberries. Arya didn't know what to do first. The last time Weese offered her something to eat, she ended up being beaten. She hesitated, but since the young woman in front of her insisted, she seized the bowl and devoured the content in less time than you needed to say it. There were good, very good.

"Thank you, my lady," she said. She walked back to the door to leave.

"Wait. Look at me."

Arya did as she was told. The young woman was still sitting at her table, but she looked closely at Arya. She didn't remember seeing her anywhere. She had seen the attire she wore before, at Winterfell, when the Lannisters visited them. Margaery Lannister's handmaidens wore that kind of clothes. She had her black hair brought into a ponytail on her back, waving a little.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Cato." She didn't want to say Arry. She thought it might look suspicious. There was no big difference between Arya and Arry, so she said the first name to come to her mind when they were made prisoners by the Lannisters, and also because everyone else who followed Yoren knew her by that name. Her mother's name almost came out, but she realized that it would look suspicious as well to call herself Catelyn, not to mention the fact she was supposed to be a boy, so she changed the second part of the name at the last moment.

"That's a nice name. Are your parents part of Harrenhal's household?"

"No, they're not."

"How did you end up here, then?"

"My parents are dead. I was brought here by soldiers who found me."

"I'm sorry. You miss them?"

"Aye." She missed her father, indeed.

"I have a friend who never knew her parents. They died when she was barely a baby. I know it's not easy when you're so young. What was your father's name?"

"Gendry." Again, she said the first name to come to her mind.

"What was he doing?"

"He was a smith."

"How did your parents die?"

"Honor got them killed."

"I'm sorry, Cato." She took the peach and gave it to Arya. "Enjoy it. Winter is coming."

"Winter is coming."

She said the words without thinking. She heard them so often that whenever she heard them, she was brought to repeat them by habit. The young woman was already going back to her table. It was barely as if Arya didn't run outside. That could get her identified as a Northerner, even as a Stark. If they learned it, she was in grave danger. She couldn't take any risk.

Sadly, Jaqen was gone on patrol. She waited for the moment he would come back, doing her other jobs in the meantime. She finally saw him drinking ale alone and went to him.

"I need you to kill someone," she said.

"A girl still has two names," he said very quietly, taking another large sip, barely giving her attention.

"I need you to kill the lady who just arrived."

"A man needs a name."

"I don't know her name."

"A pity. A man cannot kill if he doesn't have a name."

Arya looked around. At the smithy, Gendry was working, his body covered with soot. She noticed the many muscles he had and found it interesting to watch him work. Someone entered her view at this moment. Her back was turned to Arya, but she wore the same gown and her hair was arranged in the same fashion.

"That's her." She pointed the woman.

"A man knows her name. That is enough. A man will do what must be done."

"I need her to die soon."

"A girl cannot tell a man when exactly he must do a thing. A man cannot make a thing happen before its time."

"But she knows! She may know who I am."

He sighed. "A woman will be dead before tomorrow."

He walked away. That was better than nothing. Arya looked back at the young woman with black hair. She was talking to Gendry now. Arya hid behind a column and listened to them.

"It is nice work." The woman was looking at the weapons Gendry was forging. "It could compete with the swords made in Highgarden."

"Thank you, m'lady," Arya's friend said in return.

"What's your name?"

"Gendry, m'lady."

"Gendry?" She looked at him with a curious expression, and from the corner of her eye, as she looked from the column, Arya thought she saw Gendry redden. She didn't like seeing this girl talking with her friend. "You have a friend, I think? A small boy, a few years younger than you, brown hair, grey eyes, very slim. He brought me my dinner today."

"Oh, Arry, really? Did he do something wrong?"

There was an hesitation before she replied. "No. Thank you, Gendry. I won't bother you any longer."

Arya wanted to curse. She told her that her name was Cato, and Gendry just revealed it was Arry. She wouldn't take long to make the link. The woman walked away but was met a few feet later by the Kingslayer.

"My lady."

"Ser Jaime."

"I was hoping you could help me."

"Of course, ser. What is it?"

Jaime Lannister took a sword at his belt. Arya's eyes widened and her heart pounded when she saw Needle. The Kingslayer kept it. If she told Jaqen to kill him now, she might have a chance to get her sword back.

"Tell me, have you ever seen a sword like this one?"

The woman looked at it for some time. "No, Ser Jaime. Not that I recall."

"I was wondering if the Northerners used this kind of sword, because the last time I saw a sword similar to this one was at Winterfell."

"Winterfell?" Arya felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head.

"Yes. I saw a smith there working on a sword like this one, and I think I saw the youngest of the Stark sisters with another one like that when I was in King's Landing."

This time, she was done. They would find out the truth. "May I have a closer look at it, Ser Jaime?" the young woman asked.

Arya knew she should escape, but she saw Gendry working not far away. She couldn't abandon him there, and Hot Pie neither. She had to warn them. Jaqen promised the woman would die before tomorrow, but Arya could be trapped before. Just as she thought she may not have the time to bring Gendry and Hot Pie with her, she received a strong shove from behind, and her head struck against the pillar. As a sharp pain went through her head, she heard the voice she hated the most here.

"What are you doing here?" Weese next kicked her in the ribs. "All right, if you can't work by yourself, then I will make you do it. There's a knight who owes me a debt for a gamble. His name is Arkon. Bring this to him and make sure he pays me back. Don't fail."

He pulled her back on her feet and shoved her forward again. She staggered to the gates and left the castle. On her way, she felt a pair of eyes following her, and she realized the woman who looking at her from the corner of her eyes. She knows.

She was outside. She could run away, escape. No, I can't. I can't abandon Gendry and Hot Pie. Anyway, as she thought about it, she knew she couldn't get past the sentinels at the barricades that set the borders of the camp. And even if she could, she couldn't leave Gendry and Hot Pie behind. Some people knew they were friends, and they would be interrogated about her. If they lied when they were asked questions, they would be killed. And if the Lannisters discovered her friends knew who she was the whole time and they never told them, they would be killed too. She couldn't abandon them. Would she abandon Jon, or Robb, or Bran, or Rickon? Or even Sansa? Or Mother or Father?

The memory of her father's death caused her to fear it would happen to other people she cared about. She went to see the knight Weese talked about. When she arrived, he was with a group of men, but what attracted Arya's attention the most was the woman on his lap. She had to be in the twenties, with dark hair and dark eyes, and tanned skin. Disgusted as always when she saw that sort of things, she walked to the knight, the message crumpled into her hand.

"What do you want, boy?" Ser Arkon asked.

"I've got a message from Weese." She gave it to him. A problem soon arose.

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"Read it."

"That doesn't mean anything," he said after taking a look at it.

"Let me see it," the woman on his lap said with a sweet voice. She had a strange accent that Arya couldn't recognize. It was similar to that of Jaqen, but not the same. "A man called Weese…" She shot an amused look to Arya, "… says you owe him a golden dragon."

"What the fuck!" He threw away the girl who just read the paper he couldn't read.

"Hey, hold on, man." Another man came from behind Arya and took position at her side, slightly between her and Arkon. He had dark hair too, along with a small beard and a moustache. "That's no way to threat a girl." He pointed to the girl Arkon just pushed away.

"She's a whore," the knight retorted.

The man next to Arya, who wore black chainmail, shrugged. "There's a difference?"

"Mind your own business."

"As you wish, but since you don't want that girl, I think I'll take her. That makes her my business."

The knight snorted. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Some man making money with his sword." He patted the one at his belt.

"You're a cutthroat, nothing more. There are hundreds like you here, and none has succeeded to take that whore from me."

"I'll be the first. There are hundred of knights like you here too, grubs in fancy armor who are better at beating women than fighting men." He rubbed the palms of his hands. "Now, I have a girl to bring to my tent."

"You approach that whore, you… Argh!"

The sellsword in black had managed to take Arkon's arm and to twist it when he tried to stop him.

"I what?" he asked, looking at the knight grunting in pain, his arm bent in an unnatural position. He turned to the other men who sat around. "Anyone else wants to try?"

He didn't wait for an answer and went to the woman who had gone back on her feet and stood again. She didn't seem bothered by the fact she was tossed away on the ground.

"You okay?" the sellsword asked.

"I'm fine," she replied on an indifferent tone, staring at the sellsword from head to toe.

"Look, I can't pay you a lot. Sad for you, but I don't have a rich lord to bring you to, but I think you'll be safer with me than with him."

He made a movement of his head to indicate the knight still grunting on the ground. "Fine for me," she said.

The sellsword turned back to Arya. "How much did this Ser… Nobody of Nowhere owed you?"

"A golden dragon."

He pulled a face and looked around. He seized a silver-banded drinking horn and threw it at Arya who caught it in the air. "I think that will be enough. Go before whoever he owes to beats you." Arya ran away as she heard the sellsword say one last thing to the woman. "This time I won't have to find myself one."

Arya wanted to make it back to the castle as quickly as possible with the horn, so she hurried. On her way, she heard many conversations, about wine, about the war, about women, and many men complaining that the Imp ordered them to not plunder the Riverlands or kill the people. They also complained that while they were not allowed to plunder, the sellswords who were hired and rode with them had all freedom to do so. She also saw a knight being dragged from under a wagon with a hambone in his hand, and a boy with a rounded face trying to defend him, dressed like a squire.

When she arrived in the main courtyard, Weese was waiting for her. She gave him the horn. He studied it for some time, then smiles. "Good boy." Then without warning, he kicked her in the knee. "Come now. We need a good talk."

Although fear cut deeper than swords, Arya didn't remember fear being as painful as how she felt after Weese was done beating her. It was way worse this time, and she had blood running down from her forehead. He dragged her by the collar of her tunic up the stairs, opened a door and threw her inside.

"Here he is, m'lady."

Looking up from her lying position, Arya saw the lady she brought food to earlier. I'm done. Then she set her eyes on a sword's handle on the bed, a handle she knew only too well. If only she could grab it.

"What have you done?!"

Arya was troubled by the voice coming ahead of her. She looked back at the girl who was looking at her, but not in anger or hatred or anything alike. She looked horrified and outraged.

"I brought you the boy you asked, m'lady," Weese replied. "Tell me what he did."

She knelt next to Arya. "Are you all right?" she asked her. Arya didn't understand. She truly seemed to care about her. Why?

"M'lady, tell me what he did wrong?"

"You idiot!" She stood up and faced Weese. "Did you beat her?"

"Yes, m'lady," he answered as if that was the most common thing in the world, which was probably the case for him. Arya noticed he didn't seem to realize the use of her instead of him.

"You beat a lady?"

A long silence followed. "A lady?"

"She's a girl. Her name is Elya Chelsted. She is the niece of Lord Armoran Chelsted, a powerful lord of the Crownlands."

"What? That's impossible."

"I met her when I last went to King's Landing about a year ago. Do you realize what you've done? You may have alienated a powerful house of the Crownlands to King Joffrey."

"She… she should have told me."

"That's not the question. You beat a lady. I'm sure you're aware of the punishment for that kind of things. The moment Ser Kevan Lannister will hear, he'll have you hung."

Something then happened that Arya never saw. "Please, my lady, don't tell him. I don't want to die." Weese was actually begging for something. Arya had never imagined that to be possible.

"I won't talk about it. I don't want the word to spread. The king already has more than enough problems to deal with. She will come with me when I leave Harrenhal and I will bring her back to her family. I suggest you talk about this to no one. If you do, you won't live for long."

"Thank you," Weese replied with a hurried voice. "Thank you, m'lady."

He rushed out of the room and Arya was alone with the other girl. She knelt again near Arya. Her fingers went over her face. "This looks deep. Wait a minute."

She came a moment later with a towel sozzled with water and began to put it on Arya's cuts one by one. She did it for a while. She didn't seem evil, but Arya didn't understand why she was helping her.

"I'm not Elya Chelsted," she said.

"I know. I had to lie. If I told him the truth, he would tell Ser Kevan immediately."

"What truth?"

She stopped cleaning her wounds and smiled at Arya. "We never met, but your brother talked a lot about you."

Arya stared in surprise. "You know one of my brothers?"

"Yes. You have the same eyes and the same hair, and he told me you liked to dress like a boy and to get dirty everywhere you went." She looked behind at the sword. "And he also told me about Needle."

She went to the said bed and took something hidden under it. There were three envelopes. She took one and put back the others in their place. She came back to Arya and gave her the letter.

"Open it," the girl told her.

Arya did, and inside she discovered the familiar writing of Jon.


So, did you see the three of them?

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Next chapter : Sansa